The Best of Friends
by RagingCassowary
Summary: The supposed death of Scabbers in book three brings Harry and Hermione closer together, instead of further apart. This story follows the two best friends in the events that follow, as together they face down a murderous godfather, an army of dementors and an angry Weasley.
1. Chapter 1: Broomsticks, Rats or Weasleys

**A/N:** _Okay, so this is my first story for Harry Potter so I would definitely appreciate feedback on how I did. This story is based on book three, but takes an alternate path after Scabbers' supposed 'death' at the hands of Crookshanks. This is how I think the books should have gone after that moment. I am definitely going to write the rest of third year and all of fourth, however I may decide to take it even further and write the later years as well. This will be a Harmony story, just in case you have any problems with H/Hr._

* * *

**Chapter 1: Broomsticks, Rats or Weasleys**

Harry Potter was not having a good year.

Well, that was probably an understatement. He had discovered that his crazed godfather-turned-traitor, Sirius Black, had escaped from the most secure prison in the world and had attempted to break into the place Harry considered home, he was surrounded by Dementors which made him relive his worst possible memories and, to top it all off, his two best friends were now refusing to speak to each other, because of a broomstick and a rat.

So, all in all, not a very good year at all.

Currently, the boy in question was sat gazing into the common room fireplace with a thoughtful expression. His mind full of thoughts about a certain bushy-haired bookworm.

_'She doesn't deserve this' _He thought to himself sadly.

Both he and Ron had been acting coldly towards Hermione in the past couple of months and Harry was ashamed of it. It wasn't just the fact that it had been over something as trivial as a broomstick. It wasn't just the fact that she'd had a completely valid reason to do what she did. No, what hit him hardest was that she'd done it all for him.

He wished that she'd come to him about the broom instead of McGonagall. He liked to think he would have understood, that he'd have handed it over for inspection himself, if she'd given him the choice. It wasn't what she'd done that had hurt him, it was that she'd done it all behind his back. That was the real reason he'd been angry and, now it was all done, he'd hoped that things could go back to the way they had been.

The truth was... he'd missed her during those two months his Firebolt was being checked.

He'd missed sitting with her to do his homework. He'd missed taking walks around the lake with her (not that they could do that anyway, thanks to the aforementioned maniac godfather). He'd missed those hours that they'd spent poring over old books together, looking for a way to help Hagrid with Buckbeak. He'd missed her just being there with him, no matter what happened, like she always was.

It hadn't taken him long to realize that it would hurt him more to lose her friendship than it would Ron's, and that she was on the right side of the argument. There really was no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers and even if he had, Scabbers was... well, he was getting old. Everyone could see how ill that rat looked, he'd probably been at death's door already.

Regardless, Harry had decided to support Hermione in this, which brought him back to his current predicament.

_'What on earth am I supposed to say to her?' _He questioned in his head.

There were many things he wanted to say, he just wasn't sure how to. _Sorry_ was the first and most important, she deserved an apology for his behaviour. _Thank you_ was another obvious one. He wanted her to know that he appreciated her looking out for him, even if he didn't exactly agree with her methods. He also wanted her to know how much he appreciated everything she'd done for him these past two-and-a-half years, from lying about the troll in first year to turning in a possibly homicidal Christmas present. He wanted her to know just how much being friends with her meant to him.

He just didn't know how to convey all that gratitude and apology in mere words. Still, he was going to talk to her anyway, so maybe he should just get on with it.

The sound of a small explosion shocked him out of his musings, almost causing him to fall out of his chair.

He chuckled slightly. He'd been so engrossed in his own thoughts that even an exploding playing card was enough to make him jump.

'_I just need to get up and talk to her. No more brooding._'

Making his decision, he stood up and stretched, aching a little from the way he'd slumped in the armchair. '_How long was I sat there?_' he pondered absent-mindedly, not really wanting to know the answer. He turned to scan the room.

Ron was sat in a corner playing Exploding Snap with Seamus, which was the sound that had startled him before. Neville was reading and re-reading a little piece of parchment, no doubt trying again, fruitlessly, to memorise the new guardian's password schedule. Lavender and Parvati were... well they were doing whatever it was girls did in their free time. The only others in the common room were a cluster of first and second years and a single seventh year, none of whom Harry knew.

Harry frowned and checked again. Nope, definitely no Hermione, he could have spotted that hair a mile off. He hadn't really expected her to be in the room. Since the incident with Ron, she'd been spending even more of her time in the Library (Something he personally hadn't thought possible).

He sighed and made his way out of the portrait hole, ignoring Ron's shouts for him to join them and Sir Cadogan's challenges. He began to make his way to the Library.

The trip was uneventful, aside from having to use a secret passage to avoid Peeves and his stink bombs, but that was pretty much normal at Hogwarts.

Once again he gave a silent prayer of thanks to Fred, George and the anonymous _Marauders._ He'd recently taken to pulling out the map at night and memorising some of the secret passages, as well as which ones Filch was aware of. Navigating the castle was now much quicker and easier than it had been in his last two years.

He paused as he entered the Library and spotted a familiar mane of bushy hair. She was sat in their usual corner, hunched over and absorbed in some thick tome. He smiled a little at the sight. It was just so... so _Hermione. _When something goes wrong, just head to the Library and lose yourself in parchment and ink. It made him happy to see that she hadn't changed after their disagreement over the Firebolt.

Emboldened, he made his way over to her and dropped into the seat across from her.

* * *

Hermione Granger was troubled.

She was staring at the page in front of her, but her mind was elsewhere.

A few months ago, she had done something that had seemed perfectly reasonable and undoubtedly a correct decision... at the time. However, her very hasty and totally correct actions had been rewarded with her two best friends treating her like she had just stabbed them in the back.

She still stood by her decision to tell McGonagall, even after her fears had been dis-proven, but she couldn't help but wonder... what if she'd gone to Harry. Maybe he'd have understood, maybe he'd have done the same thing she did.

His reaction made her feel much worse than Ron's, she could deal with Ron, but Harry was... another matter. She couldn't help but feel a little ashamed at her decision, no matter how reasonable. She felt as if she _had _stabbed him in the back.

And... she had enjoyed being his friend.

He seemed to be the only one who didn't tease her about her love of books, or all the subjects she was doing, or her reputation as a _know-it-all. _In fact, he'd seemed genuinely concerned about her enormous workload and how she was handling it all.

'_If only he knew_' she thought sadly.

After the whole issue was cleared up, she had hoped everything would just go back to what it had been before. In fact, Harry had come up and started talking to her, as if nothing had happened. She couldn't remember what they'd been talking about... something to do with Arithmancy. What she did remember, very clearly, was Ron storming down the stairs and shoving a bloody bedsheet in her face. Harry had tried to calm him down, told him to take another look around for Scabbers, but Ron was having none of it. He insisted that the rat had been eaten, throwing a few ginger cat hairs at her as _evidence._

She had, of course, denied everything. She was absolutely certain that Ron had simply lost the rat and that he should have taken better care of him. Even if Crookshanks had eaten him, so what. As she'd said to him before, all cats chase rats, hers was no different.

Anyway, their little spat had ended any chance of reconciliation with Ron, she understood that.

She just wasn't sure where Harry stood in it all.

She was worried that he was going to take Ron's side, again, and she didn't think she could bear it. It had been bad enough when he'd had a reason to be mad at her, but this time it was entirely his choice. Which friend should he support?

She knew he'd choose Ron. Why would he choose her, she was bossy and a know-it-all and had already broken his trust. '_Ron's his best friend_' she reasoned, '_He was always a better friend than me_'.

She was so wrapped up in her own troubles that she almost missed him sit down opposite her.

She glanced up from her work and her eyes were met by a sight of unruly raven hair and sparkling green eyes.

"Hey, Harry," she greeted unenthusiastically, her earlier thoughts still weighing on her mind.

"Hi," he replied with equal vigour. He had an odd look on his face, like he was trying to wrap his head around some difficult puzzle.

He glanced down at her book and frowned. "We didn't have Care of Magical Creatures homework, did we?" he questioned, a note of panic in his voice.

She too looked at the page. True, it was a book on magical creatures, but it wasn't for homework.

"No," she explained, "I'm still researching cases to help Hagrid with the hearing."

He hung his head a little at that and brought his palm up to his forehead. "I completely forgot we were supposed to be helping," he groaned, "Hagrid's never going to forgive me."

She almost smiled at him. "I'm sure it'll be fine," she assured him, "He'll understand. I mean, you've had a lot to deal with lately; Anti-Dementor lessons, Sirius Black, the Firebolt and now me and Ron..." she trailed off at that, not wanting to bring it up, but it seemed that Harry had other ideas.

"Yeah, listen... I wanted to talk to you about that," he began carefully, "About what happened with Scabbers.

'_This is it_' she thought, '_This is where he tells me that Ron's right and should just accept it_'

"Go on then. Might as well get it over with." Despite her cold tone, her voice shook a little.

Harry, on the other hand, looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

She snapped.

"Look Harry, I know what you're going to say, so you might as well get on with it," she stated, in that icy, quivering voice. "You're going to tell me how Ron's right and my cat is a bloodthirsty beast, and it's all my fault Scabbers is gone, because it's always my fault isn't it? First the broom, now this, I just cause all the problems don't I?"

Her voice gradually became less cold and more upset as her rant went on and tears were threatening to fall by the end of it. She hung her head after the outburst, not wanting to look at him.

She knew what he was going to say. He was going to...

"You couldn't be more wrong,"

Her head lifted at this and she saw a determination in his eyes. It was her turn to look confused.

"What do you mean?" she repeated his earlier question.

"Hermione," he said, "I was going to say that Ron is being a massive idiot and should learn to take better care of his pets."

"You... you don't believe him?" She could scarcely believe what she was hearing.

He snorted, "Of course not, that blood could have come from anywhere and, as for those cat hairs, Crookshanks has been jumping at Scabbers for ages now. They could have been there for weeks."

She still couldn't wrap her head around what she was hearing, "You mean, you agree with me?"

He looked at her suddenly puzzled again. "Yeah, why wouldn't I, you're my friend Hermione."

This time, she did smile. "I... I wasn't sure you'd still want to be friends. After what happened with your Firebolt."

He suddenly started to squirm in his chair and generally look uncomfortable, "About that, I also wanted to... apologise."

Now Hermione really was confused, "For what?"

"For how I treated you. You were just doing what you thought was right and I treated you horribly for it. In fact, looking back I think you _did_ do the right thing."

Her heart swelled at his statement. Never, ever, had Harry Potter apologised to her before. '_Although_' she realised, '_He's never actually had anything to apologise for, before now_'

"You don't need to," she said firmly, "I shouldn't have gone behind your back about it."

"I don't care if I have to or not Hermione. I'm sorry," He was much more confident now, "And I wanted to thank you as well."

It seemed like every word out of his mouth left Hermione a bit more perplexed. "Th- thank me?" she stammered.

He nodded. "When you took the broom to McGonagall, you did it because you were scared for me. You were trying to keep me safe. So, thank you for..."

Whatever he was going to say next was lost as Hermione flung her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. Struggling to get his breath back, he awkwardly returned the hug.

"Oh Harry. You don't have to thank me for anything. I'm just glad you don't hate me."

He pulled back at that, so that he could look her in the eye. "I could never hate you Hermione. You're my best friend."

She beamed at his declaration and he grinned back at her. It seemed that all her fears were entirely unfounded. She hadn't even dared to hope that it would go like this. Not only did he still want to be friends, he thought of her as his best friend. '_Me_' she thought excitedly, '_Not Ron, Me_'.

The two of them sat together and researched hippogriff trials for the rest of the day. They talked and laughed just like they used to, without broomsticks, rats or Weasleys to get between them. When it began to get late, they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower together, with as many books as they could carry and continued their studies in front of the common room fire.

They stayed up together long after most people had gone to bed and when they finally separated, to go to their dormitories, they left each other with their friendship, not only intact, but stronger than it had ever been before.

* * *

**A/N: **_As I said, I'd love to know what you think about this and will reply to any questions you have about the story. Until next time, good readers._


	2. Chapter 2: Savour This Moment

**A/N: **_So, the response to my first chapter was so good, that I was prompted to finish this quicker than I'd intended. I'm really enjoying writing this so far and I'm glad others enjoy reading it. I would like to give a mention to Red Phoenix Dragon, whose review has given me an idea for something that will appear in a later chapter. Anyway, enough from me, I'll let you get on with the reading._

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**Chapter 2: Savour This Moment**

Harry woke early the next morning.

He'd expected to be laying in bed for another hour at least, considering how long he and Hermione had stayed up last night. Yet, for some unknown reason, his body had decided to wake up at some ungodly hour in the morning.

Getting up and stretching, he yawned and glanced over at his friend's bed as he began to get changed. Ron was still asleep, snoring every so often and lying in a tangled mass of limbs that didn't seem very comfortable.

Harry grimaced at the sight.

He still wasn't sure whether he could fix Ron and Hermione's friendship. He was hoping that Ron would see reason and just let the matter drop, but honestly, it was very unlikely. He would try and make the red-head see that Hermione was right, but if he refused to let him help... well, Hermione was his best friend, and he would stick by her.

Sighing, he made his way down the stairs. A Monday morning was not the time for such heavy thoughts.

When he descended into the common room, he found all the books and parchment that the two of them had been studying strewn across the tables, exactly as they had left them. He frowned and picked up an account of a trial for a creature called a Threshal. The trial had some unsettling parallels with their current case.

Parallels, because this animal had also been baited into attacking someone.

Unsettling, because it had been sentenced to death for it.

They had spent hours researching the topic and had still only managed to come up with scattered notes and possibilities. It was not an easy task, but Harry was determined that Buckbeak would live through this. He had personally stroked and even ridden the Hippogriff and he wasn't about to sit by and let the poor thing be executed for Malfoy's entertainment.

He shook his head. '_No heavy thoughts on a Monday_' He reminded himself.

He exited the portrait hole and made his way down to breakfast, trying to focus on happy thoughts. It was a skill he had learned from his lessons with Lupin. He'd found that, just by focusing on something that makes you feel good, you can easily forget any darker or weightier thoughts.

It was a crucial part of the Patronus Charm.

This time, he focused on the hug he'd gotten from Hermione yesterday. It had been quite unexpected and had felt a bit awkward in the middle of the Library. Not that he'd cared, he was just glad that he'd managed to hold onto their friendship. That hug had pushed any doubts about Hermione being his best friend, out of his mind.

The memory of their conversation had the desired effect and, by the time he reached the Great Hall, Harry had a smile on his face.

The hall was still quite empty, with only a few people from each house willing to wake up this early on the first day of the week. Taking a seat alone, Harry pulled a plate towards himself and sat munching on toast, while the room slowly filled around him.

He looked up as Ron sat down across from him, where he promptly started shovelling pancakes into his mouth.

"Morning," Harry greeted warily. He wasn't sure if Ron was going to explode at him for staying friends with Hermione.

"Guh murnuh Arry," he replied around a mouthful of food.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

He swallowed and tried again, "Sorry. Good morning Harry."

Harry shook his head and poked the crusts on his plate. "You know, sometimes I think that Hermione has a point about you. You really need to learn how to swallow first."

He had deliberately dropped Hermione's name into the statement. Testing the waters, as it were.

Ron just shrugged. "Maybe," he said, not reacting to his former friend's name, "Anyway Harry, about that Firebolt, I was thinking..."

The two boys continued to chat over breakfast. Ron was acting as if nothing was wrong, but Harry was still wary in what he said. He knew that they would have to have a _talk_ sooner or later.

'_Personally_' he thought, '_I hope it's later_'

* * *

The Great Hall was quite full by the time Hermione came down for breakfast.

Before third year, she'd always been one of the first to rise and the first to eat, eager to start a new day of learning with a clear head. Since the problems with her timetable however, she had found herself in need of more and more sleep. She was particularly late this morning, after having to clear up the mess of parchment she and Harry had left the night before.

As she entered, she made her way towards the Gryffindor table, her eyes roaming the benches, looking for a certain bespectacled boy.

She froze as she caught sight of him.

He was sat across the table from Ron, talking over a plate of pancakes and toast. She suddenly felt apprehensive. He wasn't going to try and make her talk to Ron was he, or worse, make her apologise.

He caught her eye and gave her a broad smile, which she instinctively returned. He patted the bench next to him, telling her to come and sit.

'_He wouldn't do that_' she reminded herself, '_He probably just wants to let Ron know where he stands on all this_'

She moved forwards and sat down gingerly, chancing a quick glance at Ron, who had a disgusted look on his face.

"Y'know Harry, we should probably talk to Fred and George about this, we'll just move over to sit with them."

He pointedly avoiding looking at her at her as he said this and she felt anger boil up in her chest. Not only was he avoiding her, he didn't even have the decency to admit it.

Harry didn't move, he just sat there with his arms folded, "I don't see any reason to move Ron, in fact I'm perfectly fine where I am." He was trying to get him to come clean about it. Hermione suddenly sat up a little straighter, the ghost of a smile playing across her lips at what her friend had said.

Ron nodded at her, in what was probably supposed to be a subtle way, and Harry just turned to her briefly, giving her a small smile, then looked back to Ron, "Why don't you just say what's on your mind Ron?_" _he prompted, an eyebrow raised.

The red-head looked back at him incredulously. "You're not trying to tell me you'd rather sit with _her_. After everything she's done."

By this point, Hermione had had enough, "What exactly is that supposed to mean Ronald," she snapped and he looked back at her, fuming. Harry meanwhile, shot her a warning look, which she completely ignored,

"Seriously, Hermione? You vandalise one of Harry's Christmas presents and let that furbag of yours maul Scabbers and you expect me to act like nothing's happened?"

Hermione opened her mouth to deliver an equally cold retort, but Harry beat her to it.

* * *

Harry could feel the tension in the room that was ready to blow open at any second and he decided to step in before it got worse.

"Look," he began cautiously, knowing he was on thin ice, "Ron, you have no proof that Crookshanks ate him or even that he's dead, so why can't you just drop it and take another look round for him."

He looked shocked at Harry's defence. "You mean you're siding with her? Even after what she did to your Firebolt?"

Harry glared at Ron, starting to feel a bit angry himself now. "Yes, I am, because my friends mean more to me than broomsticks or rats."

Ron looked a bit confused at what Harry had said, "But, I'm your friend too Harry."

"Really?" Harry asked sarcastically, "You're doing a bloody good job at being friendly there."

The Weasley boy scowled at the both of them, "Fine," he spat, standing up abruptly, "You two obviously don't understand, I'll go sit with someone who does."

And with that, he stormed off to go and sit with Dean and Seamus, further down the table, leaving the pair of them behind.

Harry turned when he heard Hermione sigh. She looked a bit tired, as if the whole argument had worn her out. "Well that could have gone better," she stated, staring at the pancake pile with weary eyes.

"Don't worry," assured Harry, "Ron's an idiot, but he'll come around, eventually" He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

She looked up and smiled at him. "I'm glad _we're_ still friends Harry."

"Me too," he agreed and her smile grew even wider.

They spent the rest of their breakfast together, as well as the walk up to the North Tower for Divination. During the lesson, Ron sat well away from them and they were able to get their work done in peace (_work _having the meaning of _chatting under their breath while making fun of Trelawney's predictions_). He did the same during Transfiguration and at dinner, but neither of them cared much. They were enjoying each other's company.

When they went outside for Care of Magical Creatures, Harry was planning to use the lesson as an opportunity to talk to Hagrid and explain why he hadn't been helping. About halfway through the lesson, he managed to pull the teacher to one side. Everyone else was too busy poking their Flobberworms with bits of lettuce to pay them any mind.

"Listen, Hagrid," he started, after taking a deep breath, "I know I promised to help with Buckbeak's hearing and I'm really sorry that I haven't, but I've had a lot of things on my mind lately, after..."

"Don' worry abou' it Harry," Hagrid cut him off, raising a massive palm, "Hermione, tol' me all about yer Quidditch practises an' yer lessons with Lupin. I know yeh haven' really had the time."

Harry wasn't going to give up easily though, "That doesn't matter. I still promised you that I would and I will make sure to keep that promise, from now on. Me and Hermione were up for ages last night, looking for something useful."

Hagrid was looking at him differently now, like he was impressed, "So, yeh've finally come teh yer senses an' started talkin' to her again?"

Harry winced at the statement. He didn't like to think about how badly he'd been treating her, "Yeah," he admitted, "Though I don't think Ron will be as easy as that." He cast his eyes over to where the red-head was sat with Neville and a dark look crossed his face.

Hagrid missed the look and continued on, "'S good teh hear. She's bin comin' down teh visit me a lot since Christmas. Bin feelin' lonely."

Harry felt a pang of guilt and hung his head, "I... I didn't know that. I should talk to her, apologise again..." he got slowly quieter as he mumbled something about being a terrible friend.

"Ah, yeh don' need teh do that Harry," Hagrid said, clapping him on the back and nearly causing him to fall over. "From what av' seen, she's a lot happier now than she has bin fer a while. Yer a good friend teh her Harry."

Something about the way he said it made Harry uneasy, like he was implying something else with his last statement. "Uh, thanks..." he offered, still a bit puzzled.

The big man smiled down at him. "Go on then, bes' get back teh the lesson, before am' called out fer chattin as well as causin injuries."

* * *

Over the next few days, Harry and Hermione spent almost all of their time together. They sat together for lessons and meals and, during their free time, they would sit in the common room doing homework or looking through old reports on dangerous creature trials. Ron simply refused to speak to either of them, still believing that they were in the wrong about Scabbers. Strangely, neither of them seemed to find this as bad as they thought they would, they were too happy about finally being best friends again to feel bad about anything. Hermione even came to Harry's Quidditch practises, although she did bring a book to read while was there.

In fact, it seemed like the only time the two weren't together was during Harry's Anti-Dementor lessons. Harry thought this was odd, considering that Hermione had taken many more subjects than he had, so surely she should have classes where they weren't together. However, he had never seen her going to or coming from any of them.

The two of them were, at this moment, sat near one of the large windows in Gryffindor Tower. The table between them was strewn with books on various subjects, which lay open on seemingly random pages. There were also two long rolls of parchment before them, that were their Defence Against the Dark Arts essays.

"That's wrong."

Hermione looked up as Harry spoke. He was leant over her essay and peering at something she'd just written.

"Sorry?" she asked.

He gestured to the bottom few lines of her writing, "That bit about the Hinkypunks is wrong. Lupin said the best way to get past is just to ignore them, if you try to move away from them, it could end up just as bad as if you'd followed them."

She glanced down at her answer and realised that he was right. She quickly corrected her error and gave him a quick, "Thank you."

When she looked up again, she noticed that he'd stopped writing and was just looking at her, with a big grin on his face.

"What?" she asked, feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Nothing," he answered, "It's just that... I just corrected Hermione Granger's homework. I want to savour this moment."

She felt a bit irritated now, "So what, you helped me with my homework. What's so special about that?"

He looked at her as if she'd just grown another head, "Come on Hermione, everyone knows you're the top in the school. I doubt that you've ever handed in something that was less than perfect, even when Snape set us that Werewolf essay."

She blushed a bit at his compliment. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy. "Harry I'm not the top in every class. Certainly not in Defence Against the Dark Arts anyway."

He snorted at that, "I find that hard to believe, name one person who's better at that subject than you."

"You," she said immediately, without even having to think about her answer.

"Me?" he said, looking shocked, "I'm not even close to you, in any lesson."

She sighed, "Don't sell yourself short Harry, you've always been better than me in Defence. Well, maybe not in second year, but honestly, that was more like a Gilderoy Lockhart fan club than an actual lesson."

He shook his head and smiled, "Yeah it was. Although, the Duelling Club wasn't too bad, I suppose."

She nodded enthusiastically, "Yes and you were definitely better than me at duelling," she continued, "Face it Harry, you've always been one the best in Defence, and since Lupin, you've become _the_ best."

He gave her an odd look, "You... you really think I'm that good."

She nodded again and he gave her a broad smile, "I... thanks Hermione."

She returned his smile happily, then turned back to her work, "You're welcome. Now, this bit here, about the proper environment for a Hinkypunk to..."

They continued on like that until they had finished their essays, but throughout their time sat at that table, and for some time after as well, neither of them could get what the other had said out of their mind.

Hermione had never really felt like she was the top of the school. Sure, she was good, but she'd never thought of herself as the best. But... the way Harry had said it to her, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, made her feel like it might actually be true. It made her feel proud of herself.

Harry had never even considered he could be the _best _at anything. It was hard to stand out when your best friend was the top in the school. But, when said friend told him he was better than her at something... he believed her. He had always thought that the only thing he was really good at was flying, but she had said that he'd always been better than her.

'_Yes_' he thought to himself, '_I'm definitely going to savour this moment_'

* * *

**A/N: **_So we get to see the angry Weasley I mentioned and I got to write Hagrid as well, yay! __As always, let me know what you think and feel free to ask me any questions. Until next time, good readers._


	3. Chapter 3: Safer with Books

**A/N:**_ Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favourited or left a review, it means a lot to see my story is appreciated, especially after so little time. I'm glad so many people enjoy reading this as much as enjoy writing it, sadly the update schedule is going to take a big hit once we run out of weekend. I'm so sorry. But, on the plus side, we have a new chapter, with new characters too. There is one character in particular in this that I very much enjoyed writing. I'm sure you'll work out who it was._

* * *

**Chapter 3: Safer with Books**

It was the day before the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match, a week and a half since the reparation of Harry and Hermione's friendship and the last chance for the Gryffindor team to practice.

Harry and Hermione still spent all their time together, but both were beginning to get annoyed at Ron's attitude.

Harry had held on to hope that the Weasley boy might see reason at some point, but it was looking less and less likely. He avoided them in the corridors and classrooms, preferring to spend more time with Dean and Seamus or the Twins, but it was worse in the common room. He made a point of dropping in mentions of Scabbers now and then, in quite a loud voice. He had even gone as far as aiming kicks at Crookshanks whenever the cat came near.

He was trying to make them feel guilty, but all he was doing was making them mad. They had both entertained the possibility that Scabbers had in fact been eaten and still agreed that Ron was handling it in completely the wrong way. Hermione had considered just apologising about it, however Harry had shot that idea down immediately. He wasn't going to forgive Ron until he admitted he was being a git.

They had found themselves spending a lot more time with Neville. Harry was surprised to learn that he and Hermione were quite close, probably after all the times she must have helped him with his work. Harry silently thought that the round-faced boy had a crush on the girl, but obviously he kept such thoughts to himself.

Neville often joined them in the Library, where they helped him with his homework or, once or twice, vice versa. Apparently, Neville was something of a genius in Herbology. Harry thought that he may even rival Hermione in that field, who tended to agree with him. Neville had blushed when they'd suggested this and waved the praise off, saying he wasn't _that_ good.

Harry and Hermione were currently sat in the common room together. Harry was busy polishing his Firebolt after a particularly muddy practice the other day, while Hermione had her head buried in an Ancient Runes textbook. Harry couldn't understand her love of the subject. She'd tried to make him see how interesting it was and, while he agreed that it seemed useful, he just couldn't wrap his head around the many different symbols and letters involved in it.

He much preferred to point his wand and make something happen. It was why he enjoyed Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. He always got a thrill of satisfaction at actually seeing his magic do something.

Harry looked up to say something to her when he noticed she was no longer looking at the book. She was scowling at something in the corner of the room and Harry had a sneaking suspicion what it was.

He followed her gaze and, sure enough, there was Ronald Weasley, saying something to Dean and Parvati. As Harry strained to hear what was being said, Ron raised his voice again, saying, "Yeah, I wouldn't recommend asking for a mouse. Y'know there's so many other animals out to get them. Just look what happened to Scabbers."

Harry looked back to Hermione and saw that she was gripping the book so hard that her knuckles were white. Her face showing obvious rage as she glared at the red-head.

Harry sighed and stood up. They needed to get out for a bit.

"Come on," he said, holding a hand out to Hermione, "Let's head down to the pitch."

She looked at him, confused, "Practice doesn't start for a while yet Harry. And you're not supposed to go without Madam Hooch there anyway."

"Yeah, but you look like you don't want to be here right now. So, come on."

She still looked a bit worried, but she closed her book and took his hand, following him down to the Quidditch Pitch.

When they got there, Hermione went up to the stands and promptly began reading again, while Harry flew in lazy circles around the pitch, lost in thought.

He still marvelled at how good the Firebolt was. Not only was it insanely fast, but it also seemed to know exactly what he wanted from it, as though it was reacting to thoughts rather than touches.

As he finished another lap, he noticed that Hermione had stopped reading and was just watching him. He turned and they smiled at each other in perfect sync. He looked down at the Firebolt.

'_This broom's caused us a lot of problems, maybe it can be used to solve them as well_' he wondered.

He slowly made his way over to her and dropped into the seat next to her. Literally _dropped. _He just jumped off his broom in mid-air and landed in the seat.

She laughed at his unconventional dismount and he held his broom out to her. "Want a go?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No thanks."

"I promise it's not cursed," he joked.

She sighed, "You know I don't really like flying Harry."

"Okay," he nodded and got back on his broom. However, he let himself hover just next to her and held out his hand. "Get on then."

She just looked at him in shock, "Harry, didn't you hear what I just said?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, but the way I see it, you _are_ getting on this broom and if you're too scared to get on it on your own, you'll get on with me."

She frowned at him, "I'm not scared."

"Prove it," he smirked.

She sighed again and put her book to the side, but there was a smile on her face as she let Harry pull her onto the broom behind him.

They just did lazy laps around the pitch first, as he had done before. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, tightly at first, but soon he felt her grip loosen as she relaxed into the flight.

Harry decided she was ready for something a little more exciting.

He slowly began to climb higher and higher, speeding up as he went. Her grip tightened again. "Harry..." she warned, but he wasn't listening. He levelled off very suddenly when they well above the pitch. Hermione was holding onto him like he was her only source of life.

"Oh, that's high," her voice was a bit small, "That's... wow, that's high."

"Do you want to go back down," he asked, pretending to be serious as he looked back at her. She nodded, looking a little fearful and he shot her a manic grin... before surrendering to gravity and dropping into a steep dive.

He could hear her screaming behind him as she held on for dear life, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered. All that mattered was the wind in his hair, the sight of the ground rushing closer and closer. The...

And then it was over.

Harry pulled out of the dive and let the broom slowly come to a halt just above the ground.

Hermione was off the broom and running for the stands quick as a flash. Harry chuckled and dismounted himself. He made his way over to where she was stood in the entrance to the stands and grinned at her. She was positively fuming.

"So, did you enjoy it?" he asked playfully.

She looked ready to burst, "Harry Potter! That was irresponsible, inconsiderate, incredibly rude and not to mention, downright dangerous." Her hair was suitably windswept and she was panting for breath.

"So, you didn't enjoy it?" he clarified, his spirits dropping a little. '_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea_'

That thought was wiped from his mind as a huge smile crossed her face and she pulled him into one of trademark hugs.

"I loved it!" she exclaimed and he felt his heart soar.

He put his arms around her, not feeling nearly as awkward as usual. She pulled him a bit closer.

'_This is nice_' he thought. He didn't normally do hugging, but this felt good. He didn't think anything could ruin this...

"Um, not to interrupt this... moment,"

"But, you're _slightly_ blocking the door,"

"Just a bit,"

The two of them jumped away from each other as if they had received an electric shock. Their faces equally flushed, they turned to see the Weasley Twins stood before them. They had identical grins on their faces which only ever spelled trouble.

"Um... we were..." Harry stammered.

"We were just..." Hermione began at the same time.

They looked at each other and blushed a bit more.

Thankfully, they were saved from an explanation by the arrival of Wood, who swiftly pulled the three players onto the pitch and allowed Hermione to slip away into the stands.

* * *

She sat watching the indistinct blurs race around the pitch after each other. One blur was moving much faster than all the others and that identified it as Harry. Seeing Harry, of course, made her thoughts turn towards their flight together.

She sighed. It had been absolutely terrifying and incredibly dangerous... and she'd loved every second of it. The feel of the wind in her hair and against her face as she had fallen towards the earth, holding onto Harry like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. It had felt amazing.

That didn't mean she wasn't happy to have both feet back on the ground again. She would never be a flying fanatic, but she was starting to understand why Harry enjoyed it so much.

She chuckled. She had often noticed Harry reading _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ in his spare time. Reading a book just because he wanted to was something Harry would not have been caught dead doing a month ago. She got the feeling she was rubbing off on him a bit.

And after today, she realised that he might be rubbing off on her a bit as well. All that she needed to work out now was if that was good or bad.

She was inclined to say good, considering the _moment _they'd had after they landed. She was well known for her hugs and their ability to knock the breath out of anyone on the receiving end. But that moment with Harry had been different. It had felt like he was hugging her just as much as she was hugging him.

She decided to file that thought away for later and pulled the book towards her again. No matter what her new found love of flying meant, she would always prefer her books.

She felt safer with books.

* * *

After the practice was over, Harry and Hermione decided to take Neville down to Hagrid's to see Buckbeak. He had shown an interest in helping them with the trial and they both agreed that they could use it. It seemed like cases where the creatures were cleared were few and far between. So far, they only had scattered findings and dates to give Hagrid, something told Harry that wouldn't be enough.

They stood together in the pumpkin patch, where Buckbeak was chained up to a fence post. Harry was stood right next to the Hippogriff, gently stroking his feathers. Hermione and Neville stood further back. Hermione, because she understood that the creature was proud and shouldn't feel smothered. Neville, because those talons looked very sharp.

"Don't worry," said Harry soothingly, "We'll get you out of these chains in no time. They can't kill you for this."

"He knows you're lying."

They all spun at the sound of the dreamy voice behind them. Standing there, was a girl with dirty blond hair, wearing Ravenclaw robes. Harry guessed that she was in second or third year. She looked a bit... strange. She was barefooted and had a vacant expression on her face, as if she were daydreaming about something. Around her neck was a necklace of butterbeer tops and those earrings looked suspiciously like radishes.

"I'm sorry?" asked Harry, a bit bewildered as to where she'd come from.

"He knows he might die," she continued, not taking her eyes off the Hippogriff. "He's smart enough to know that and proud enough to want the truth." She began to walk slowly forwards and Harry backed off a bit to give her room. However, she didn't stop to bow and just carried on walking.

"Um, you have to..." He trailed off astonished, as she just walk up and started petting the Hippogriff. Just like that, no bow, no nothing. "...bow" he finished lamely.

She smiled, "There are other ways to show respect. I spoke the truth while you were all lying to him, that was enough."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. It sounded reasonable. The girl finally turned to look at him. "Hello Harry Potter," she said looking straight at his eyes. Not his scar, his eyes.

That was a first.

"Um, hi" he replied, still unsure who he was talking to, "And you are?"

"Luna," she replied, "Luna Lovegood,"

Hermione gave a small snort at the word Lovegood and Harry raised an eyebrow at her. She shook her head and gave him a look that said '_Later_'. He turned back to see that Luna was once again staring into the eyes of the Hippogriff.

"What's his name?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Buckbeak," provided Neville, who was still gaping at the girl.

"Hello Buckbeak," she said and was answered with a happy sounding noise from the Hippogriff. She smiled sadly.

"I heard some people talking," she said, once again not aiming the speech at anyone, "They said he hurt someone. Why did he do that?"

"It was Malfoy," Harry answered, spitting the name a bit, "He insulted Buckbeak and left with a cut on his arm. Now Buckbeak might die for it."

She looked at him with a puzzled expression, "Isn't anyone doing anything about it?"

He nodded, "We're helping Hagrid make notes and prepare for the hearing, but there's not a lot we can do."

Her face brightened a bit and her smile returned, "Can I help?"

Harry was stunned by the question. It was definitely not what he'd been expecting. Then again, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from the girl with the radish earrings and the butterbeer cork necklace. "Er... well we... we don't really know you, so... um..."

"Of course you can help."

Harry looked at Neville, shocked for three reasons. One, because he'd spoken. Two, because he'd spoken so confidently. Three, because of what he'd spoken.

The boy squirmed a little under Harry's look, "We need all the help we can get, Harry, you said so yourself." Harry sighed. He _had_ said that to Neville and he wasn't one to turn down an offer of help.

Luna turned to Neville and smiled a bit wider, "Thank you, but... I don't know who _you_ are?" From anyone else, that probably would have sounded rude, but Luna made it sound like a genuine way of asking for your name.

"I'm nobody," he replied quickly, his cheeks going a bit red.

"No you're not," said Hermione, who had been unusually silent, "He's Neville Longbottom and I'm Hermione Granger." She had an odd tone to her voice that Harry couldn't place.

"Hello, Neville. Hello, Hermione." Luna said, smiling at both of them in turn. She shivered. "It's a little chilly, can we head back to the castle?"

'_It would probably help if you wore shoes_' thought Harry, but he nodded and went to fetch Hagrid, so they could get back.

About halfway back, Harry let himself and Hermione lag behind the others a bit and turned to her. "Why don't you like Luna?"

Hermione looked a bit startled by his question. "What makes you think I don't like her?"

"You do realise you're glaring at her while you say that."

She looked a bit annoyed at that, "I'm not glaring at her. I'm just... unsure about her."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"I just think it's strange that she was so eager to help before she even knew our names. I've heard about the Lovegoods, their supposed to be a bit... odd."

"Well she's certainly got the odd part down," he agreed.

"And that doesn't bother you?" she asked.

"Not really," he admitted, then frowned at her, "Why? Does it bother you?"

"I don't know..." she replied honestly.

Harry laughed at that, "Hermione, you may be the brightest witch I know, but sometimes you make no sense."

* * *

**A/N: **_So yeah, Luna two years early, how will that change things? Again I'd like to thank Red Phoenix Dragon for the idea of Hermione taking a ride on the Firebolt. Quidditch next time and I'm sure we all remember what happened during the party with Hermione, then afterwards the Ron/Black incident and of course Neville's punishment. Many things to look forward to next time. As always let me know what you thought and feel free to ask questions. Until next time, good readers._


	4. Chapter 4: Just One Night

**A/N: **_I'm finally back my friends and I've decided to reward your patience with a slightly longer chapter. This chapter was based heavily on a scene from the book and a few moments were pulled straight from the original text. I didn't quite get everything I wanted to in this chapter, as it got too long too quick and I had to wrap it up early. Still, I'd love to know what you think of it._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Just One Night**

The next morning, Hermione overslept.

She'd meant to wake up bright and early to help Harry cope with his pre-match nerves. Unfortunately, her exhausted body had other ideas and it was well into the morning when she finally awoke.

She got changed quickly upon realising the time, cursing herself for staying up so late last night.

She, Harry, Neville and Luna had spent the rest of the day, after their visit to Hagrid's, in the library. Luna had been eager to help and had quickly sought out books from sections that Hermione wouldn't have even thought to look in.

Hermione was still unsure about the Ravenclaw girl. She had often heard the girls in the dormitory talking about her and Ginny had mentioned her once or twice. They called her Loony Lovegood. Hermione usually wasn't one to condone such a demeaning nickname, but seeing the girl in person, she had to admit that Loony pretty much summed her up.

Despite her... dotty behaviour, Luna actually seemed to be very clever and had spoken with something akin to wisdom about Buckbeak. The old phrase _don't judge a book by it's cover _seemed to apply quite well to this situation.

Neville seemed to be fascinated by her and Hermione couldn't really blame him. Luna Lovegood was curious, if nothing else.

The common room was empty when she descended from the girl's dormitory. Everyone else was probably already downstairs, either showing support for their team or more likely just drooling over the Firebolt.

Well, nearly everyone.

Almost as soon as she left the portrait hole, Hermione found herself flanked by the Weasley Twins, who'd appeared seemingly out of nowhere. They were dressed in their scarlet Quidditch robes and had their brooms in hand.

"Good morning Hermione," said Fred.

"Surprised to see you up here," continued George, in a tone that didn't sound very surprised at all, "Thought you'd be in the Great Hall, showing your undying loyalty to our team."

"Or at least, one member in particular," Both their eyes were glinting with mischief as they spoke. Hermione felt uneasy, like she was part of a joke she didn't quite get.

"You can talk," she replied, "You're part of the team I'm meant to be worshipping, yet here you are."

They grinned, "Yes, well you see Hermione."

"We were hoping to talk to you."

"May I ask, why?" she asked, still not liking the look they had.

"Word's been going around that Harry took you flying," George revealed.

"On his Firebolt," Fred added.

"The glorious Firebolt, that everyone treats as if it's made of glass."

"The-greatest-thing-to-happen-to-the-team-since-Harry as Wood calls it."

She was getting a bit irritated now. Not only because they kept talking alternately, but because they weren't making any sense, "Yes, he took me flying on his Firebolt. What exactly is wrong with that?"

They both stared at her, "Nothing. Quite the opposite."

"People have been badgering Harry about it for days."

"They all want a go on the world-class broom."

"So far, nobody's been successful."

"Until you, of course."

Now she was the one staring, "What? He hasn't let anyone else on it? Not even the team?"

The Weasleys chuckled, "Oh no, he offered it to the whole team."

"Several times."

"But we all politely declined his offers."

"Wood said we could all have a go later. He doesn't want any distractions while we have the ravens right round the corner."

"That doesn't mean others weren't trying to get on it."

Hermione frowned, "Like who?"

"Well, let's see. There was Seamus." Said Fred, counting off on his fingers.

"Lee."

"That second year who followed him around like a lost puppy last year. Creevy, was it?"

"Our dear brother Ron, of course."

"Oh, and Ginny too."

"Diggory, the git."

"Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, actually tried flirting with him to get a go."

"It didn't work, of course."

"But, Harry was very flustered afterwards."

"It was quite an amusing sight, actually."

"Alright, I get the point," Hermione cut in, raising her hands to silence them. For some reason, the thought of this Cho Chang flirting with Harry annoyed her a bit. "What exactly does this have to do with me?"

"We were just wondering how you succeeded in convincing him where everyone else failed."

"I didn't convince him," she admitted, "He offered to take me flying with him."

They were back to gaping at her open-mouthed. "Really?" they asked in unison.

"You're a lucky girl Hermione." George nudged her arm a bit.

"It's obvious that you're... close to our youngest team member." Fred winked at her.

"Especially after what we interrupted yesterday..."

"I'm starting to see why Cho failed now."

She blushed furiously, as she realised what this conversation was really about. "That was just me saying thank you," she assured them, "Honestly, we're just friends."

Their eyebrows raised simultaneously, "But, of course you are. We never said you had to be more than friends to be close."

"I don't know why you jumped to that conclusion so quickly Hermione."

They both began to move ahead of her, smirks on their faces, while Hermione's blush darkened.

She didn't think of Harry that way. Of course she didn't, he was her best friend. It was illogical and unreasonable to want anything more.

And yet... they had become a lot closer this year. Well, they'd actually gotten further apart first, but they were definitely closer now than they had been before the fiasco with the Firebolt.

She found herself enjoying the new relationship with Harry. To begin with, she'd mistaken it for the joy at being his friend again, but now she understood.

She actually enjoyed being closer to him.

She shook her head clear of such thoughts. This was not the best time to be pondering this. She had enough to deal with; her constant work overload, making sure she got to each class on time, helping Hagrid, this thing with Ron, Sirius Black. She didn't need to add more complications to the constantly growing pile.

Sighing, she hurried after Fred and George.

* * *

Harry was sat at the centre of the Gryffindor table, the Firebolt resting in front of him and his team-mates surrounding him.

He had entered the room with the broom over his shoulder, escorted by what could only be described as a guard of honour. Since then, people from all over the Hall had come over to gape at the thing.

Everyone had heard about it of course, but Wood had ensured that as few people as possible saw it. He had wanted to preserve the big reveal on match day.

All the boys in Gryffindor were showing their admiration of his new broomstick, as well as a few people from other houses as well. Cedric had come over to congratulate him on finding such a good replacement for his Nimbus. Percy's girlfriend, Penelope, had also shown up to have a look. Her boyfriend had quickly pulled her away again however, muttering something about a bet and sabotage in Harry's ear.

Malfoy had been his usual self, but even his snide comments couldn't dampen Harry's mood this morning.

The only people who were noticeably missing were Fred, George and Hermione.

The twins had announced that they needed to do something before the match and hurried off back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione probably wasn't even up yet.

Harry was glad that she was getting a lie-in. She often seemed to be very tired these days. It was hard to miss the shadows under her eyes or the exhausted look on her face. He wasn't sure if it was her overfilled timetable, the stress of researching for Hagrid or the way he and Ron had treated her for the last two months.

'_Probably a combination of the three_' he thought darkly.

He had suggested many times that she take it easy or maybe drop a subject, but she had always looked horrified that he would even think of that. As much as they frustrated him, her reactions made him smile a little. '_She wouldn't be Hermione if she wasn't completely obsessed with her work_'

He was beginning to worry though. She always got very evasive when he asked her how she was handling her classes and it was getting suspicious.

Sadly, he hadn't had the time to investigate her behaviour. Quidditch, Buckbeak, homework and Anti-Dementor lessons consumed almost all of his time these days.

He turned as the girl in question entered behind Fred and George. He smiled at her and moved up a bit so she could sit next to him. The moment she did, she instantly began apologising.

"Harry, I'm really sorry I overslept, I shouldn't have stayed up so late..."

"Hermione..." he started, but she wasn't finished.

"I honestly meant to be down earlier, because I know how nervous you get before a match..."

"Hermione," he repeated, more firmly.

"Not that I'm saying you can't handle the pressure or anything, I only meant..."

"Hermione!"

She flinched at his raised voice and a few people stopped what they were doing to look for the source of the noise.

He took a deep breath. "Hermione, if anyone deserves a bit of a lie-in, it's you. You've been working yourself way too hard lately. I wouldn't want you to miss out on some extra sleep because of me."

She opened her mouth to protest, but seemed to think better of it when she saw the look in his eye. Instead, she just responded with, "Thanks Harry."

He smiled at her, "Good. Now, get some food. You must be starving."

* * *

Hermione gripped the edge of her seat hard.

Harry was speeding around the edge of the pitch on his Firebolt, his eyes darting back and forth in search of the Snitch. Cho Chang was attempting to tail him, but it was obvious that both her skills and broom were lesser than Harry's.

No matter how many times Hermione had been assured that there was nothing wrong with Harry's broom, she still couldn't help but worry. What if there was an enchantment that was missed? What if the Dementors showed up again? What if a Bludger hit him?

She had always worried about Harry during a match, but never this much. It was probably because she knew what it was like now, to be high in the sky, looking down at the ground far, far below. She knew how it felt to hurtle towards the same ground at breakneck speeds.

She tensed as Harry proceeded to do just that, tipping forwards into a fast dive. He pulled up at the last second and accelerated.

She saw it.

The Snitch was high above the Ravenclaw goal. Harry was closer than Chang and faster. He was speeding towards the elusive golden ball in the sky. He was going to win.

Hermione felt excitement building inside as she leant forward in her seat, ready to spring up and cheer with the rest of the Gryffindors.

A flash of black caught her eye. Three tall figures in dark cloaks were moving across the pitch. Hermione felt her heart fill with dread. '_How did they get in?_' she thought frantically, '_How are they able to just walk into..._'

Wait a minute. _Walk_?

Her eyes narrowed at the figures. Yes, they were walking, she could tell they were taking long strides.

'_Dementors don't walk, they_ glide' she realised, '_Come to think of it, they're not affecting me. Nothing seems to be..._'

Her thought process was interrupted by a huge silver shape charging down the _Dementors_. She lost all interest in the hooded figures as her head spun to look at Harry again.

He was holding something in his right hand, but it wasn't the Snitch. It was his wand. She barely had time to register the fact that Harry had just produced a fully corporeal Patronus, when she noticed that the same hand was reaching forwards. There was a glint of gold not two inches from it.

She was up and cheering louder and faster than anyone else when Harry's fist closed around the Snitch. She watched as he was engulfed by six scarlet blurs, but only for a second, then she was hurrying down the stairs to meet him when he landed.

* * *

The huddle of red and gold descended to the ground and made a wobbly landing.

Harry was still lost in his euphoria when his feet hit solid ground. They had won. They had won by two-hundred-and-ten points and Harry had managed to produce a full Patronus for the first time in his life.

There was only one thing that would make this better and here it came. He could see her sprinting towards him with a mob of Gryffindor supporters at her back.

When she finally reached him, Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry and let him sweep her up into a tight hug. He spun her around in his arms and they were both laughing, tears streaming down their faces.

When he finally put her down, they had all of two seconds to look into each other's joyful eyes, before Harry was swallowed by the rest of the house.

"Yes!" cried Ron, who had conveniently forgotten he was supposed to be angry at him. "Yes! Yes!"

"Ruddy Brilliant!" boomed Hagrid.

Percy was shouting something about winning his bet, but Harry was distracted by a voice in his ear.

"That was quite the Patronus," said Professor Lupin, who looked equal parts shaken and pleased.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" said Harry gleefully, "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That would be because they, er, weren't Dementors," Lupin revealed, "Come and see..."

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who looked just as curious as he felt. Grabbing her hand, they weaved their way through the crowd after Lupin.

The sight they found as they exited the throng of supporters made them stop and stare.

Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It seemed as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders.

Professor McGonagall stood over them, absolutely livid. She shouted about their _low and cowardly attempt at sabotage_ and docked fifty points from each of them.

Harry and Hermione took one look at each other and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

When their laughs finally began to die down and the Slytherins were being escorted back to the castle. Hermione turned to Harry and grasped his hand again. "Come on," she said breathlessly, "I heard Fred and George talking about a party in the Common Room. I think they'll want their star player to be there."

He grinned and allowed her to drag him back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

When they arrived, they were once again met with a chorus of cheering and applause. It felt as if they had already won the Quidditch cup. The party lasted all day and well into the night. Fred and George disappeared for a few hours and returned with armfuls of food and drink that Harry suspected was from Hogsmede.

"Courtesy of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," George whispered in his ear, as he handed over a bottle of Butterbeer, confirming Harry's theory.

Not long after this, Harry noticed that one person was not participating in the celebration. Hermione was, incredibly, sitting in a corner trying to read an enormous book entitled _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles._

Harry frowned and sat down beside her. "Is your enthusiasm from earlier gone already?" he asked.

She looked up him and smiled, "Of course not Harry, I'm really glad we won, but I need to read this by Monday."

He shook his head, "Come on Hermione. Come and have some food."

"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't. I've still got four-hundred-and-twenty-two pages to read," she sounded genuinely apologetic, but Harry was determined.

"Hermione," he said delicately, "I didn't want to say anything, but I think all this work you're doing might be unhealthy." She looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm not asking you to drop a subject or anything," he assured her, "I'm only asking for one night. Can you please just let go and enjoy yourself for one night, after that you can go back to studying. Your books will still be there tomorrow."

She sighed, obviously trying to come up with a good argument. She scowled and looked over at Ron. Harry followed her gaze.

"I don't think _he _wants me to join in," she spat. Her whole body was shaking in anger, but her eyes were swimming with sadness.

Harry was about to argue, but Ron chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been _eaten, _he could have had some of these fudge flies, he used to really like them..."

Harry turned back to Hermione to see that tears were now streaming down her face. "Hey, come here," he said comfortingly, pulling her into his arms.

He let her cry onto his shoulder, until she finally managed to form a coherent sentence. "I... just k-keep thinking it's, m-my fault," she confided. Harry held her tightly as she continued. "If I... if I'd kept a c-closer eye on Crookshanks, or t-taken Ron seriously, then maybe... maybe this wouldn't have h-happened."

"Don't think like that," he told her, "I don't ever want to hear you blame yourself again, understand? This was not your fault, if anything it's Ron's fault for not taking better care of Scabbers. You shouldn't blame yourself just because he does."

He pushed her away a little to look her in the eye and she nodded, wiping her eyes.

"Do you regret it?" she asked.

He frowned at her odd question, "What?"

"Do you... regret taking my side on this?" she clarified. Harry eyes widened as he was stunned into silence. "If you'd sided with Ron you could be over there eating and drinking and laughing. Instead, you're having to comfort me, surely you'd rather be celebrating."

"No," answered Harry strongly, taking her hands in his, "I don't regret it at all, because if I'd stuck with Ron, you'd still be crying."

She gave a small smile at his words.

"Instead you're smiling," he finished and she proved his point by breaking into a broad grin. He smiled back at her and gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

"Wait here," he said, letting go of her hands and standing, "I'll be right back."

He moved away from her and over to Ron, who was, as she'd said, eating and laughing.

"Ron," he greeted coolly. The red-head's face dropped.

"Harry," he returned just as tersely.

Harry sighed, "Look Ron I'm not going to pretend to be friendly. I still think you're being a git," he began and Ron's eyes narrowed, "I'm just asking you to give Hermione a break."

Ron snorted, "Why should I?" he asked, "If she just acted like she's sorry then maybe... but she'll never admit she's wrong. It's not like Scabbers has just gone on holiday or something."

It took all of Harry's restraint not to punch the Weasley boy right there, but he took a deep breath and chose his next words cautiously, "Look Ron. I'm not asking you to apologise or admit you were wrong or anything like that. All I'm asking for is one night. Let it drop for one night. You don't have to talk to her or even me and, after tonight, you can go back to whatever it is you're trying to prove. Just leave us alone and let her enjoy the party with everyone else."

Ron hesitated and cast his gaze over to where she sat in the corner, still watching them talk.

"Please, Ron. Just for tonight," Harry pleaded.

Ron's resistance crumbled.

"Fine," he sighed, "If it'll keep you off my back about her, then I'll try. I'll try and forget that Scabbers is dead for a bit, but I'm not apologising until she does."

Harry grinned. It looked like he was finally making some progress with Ron. It wasn't much, but it was something. "Thanks," he said, clapping the boy on his back.

"Yeah, yeah," said Ron, wandering off to find his brothers again.

Harry made his way back to Hermione. He had a slight spring in his step.

"Done," he said, holding his hand out to her.

She took it warily, "Exactly _what_ have you done?" she inquired.

His smile widened and he began to pull her towards the food table, "Ron's promised not to bother us for the rest of the night. It's just one night, but it's the best I can do."

Her whole face lit up at his revelation and she threw her arms around him. He staggered a bit at the force of the hug, but he was soon returning it.

"Oh Harry. Thank you," she whispered in his ear, "You're brilliant, you know that?"

He blushed a bit at that, but it made him smile to hear it from her. Pulling her closer, he said, "Nah, I'm just really good at begging."

She laughed at that and pulled away from him. Her eyes still glistened with tears, but these were happy ones. "Come on then," she said brightly and pulled him over to where the food was.

The party continued for a long time and only ended when Professor McGonagall turned up to insist that they all went to bed. Harry and Hermione had a great time together after the talk with Ron (who stayed true to his word surprisingly) and Harry spent the rest of the party proving that he didn't need to side with the Weasley to have fun.

It was just one night, but both of them finally got a chance to lay down their troubles and enjoy themselves. They both silently agreed that nothing could ruin this night.

* * *

**A/N: **_Looks like they both fail at the subtle art of not speaking too soon. Please let me know what you think. Until next time, good readers._


	5. Chapter 5: Time of Need

**A/N: **_So, a bit of a shorter chapter today, sorry about that, but it's just the way it goes. Please let me know what you think as always and I hope you enjoy what I have for you today._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Time of Need**

A strange noise woke Hermione up.

It sounded vaguely like a scream, but that could quite easily have been a product of her groggy mind. Disoriented by the abrupt awakening, she sat up and yanked open the curtains of her four poster bed.

Across from her, Parvati also seemed to have been disturbed by the noise, but the rest of the dorm still slept on. The other girl looked at her sleepily, "Hermione? Were you making that..."

"Shh!" Hermione silenced, raising her hand. There was a new sound now. It was the sound of hurried footsteps and slamming doors. She shook her head to rid herself of her drowsiness.

Positive now that she wasn't imagining things, Hermione jumped up off the bed and grabbed a dressing gown, which she pulled on as she moved towards the stairs. Parvati was busy rousing the rest of the third years from their slumber. Hermione threw open the dormitory door and found a few other girls making their way down to the common room.

"What's happening?" she demanded as a sixth year passed by. The girl stopped for only a second to give a weary shrug, before continuing. Hermione followed quickly.

When she reached the room downstairs, she found several student milling about in their sleepwear. She idly wondered if someone had decided to restart the party and was getting ready to be cross with them, when she noticed the confused expressions everyone wore.

They were just as clueless as she was.

Then, she caught sight of Ron. His face was pale and he was shuddering from head to toe. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

While Percy Weasley moved to talk in terse tones with his younger brother, Hermione rushed over to where she saw Harry. He was stood to one side and looked like he was about to be sick.

"What's happening?" she repeated, "I thought I heard screaming."

He looked at her, still in obvious shock, "Ron, he... he says he woke up with Sirius Black over him, with a... a knife,"

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to produce an argument, but McGonagall entered before she could. The head of the house swiftly began to lecture Percy about staying up to party. The head boy quickly assured the Professor that his brother had had a nightmare, but that caused Ron to break.

"It wasn't a nightmare!" he yelled, his face still ashen, "Professor, I woke up and Sirius Black was standing over me, holding a knife!"

The entire room stared at him with mixed emotions. Some were shocked or confused, others were frightened or disbelieving.

Hermione glanced at Harry and saw that his eyes were filled with fear and denial.

Professor McGonagall just stared, with no obvious emotions behind here square glasses. "Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. How could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

'_A very good point_' noted Hermione. She was perfectly willing to believe that Ron had just blown something completely out of proportion. Again.

"Ask him," Ron whimpered, pointing at the back of Sir Cadogan's frame, "Ask him if he saw..."

But McGonagall was already moving. Pushing her way through the hole in the wall and out of sight, the rest of the house listened with bated breath, as she questioned the guardian.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter the tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!"

Silence. That was the only sound present, both within and without the common room. Hermione turned to Harry and saw what little colour was left, drain from his face.

"You... you did?" they heard McGonagall sputter, "But... but the password!"

"He had 'em" came the proud response, "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

The shock lasted three seconds, then McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole, her face white as chalk.

"Which person?" she asked the stunned crowd in a shaky voice, "Which abysmally foolish person, wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

Not a single sound was made, save for the tiniest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling uncontrollably, raised his hand slowly into the air.

McGonagall stared at him in both anger and exasperation, "Why, Longbottom?" she exclaimed, "What compelled you to do something so... so foolish?"

Hermione felt a surge of pity towards Neville. He'd always had trouble remembering passwords and it had only worsened with Sir Cadogan. She listened and understood as he mumbled something about forgetting them.

"Forgetting?" cried the professor, looking hysterical, "I don't care why you wrote it, why didn't you keep it safe? A student almost died!"

"It wasn't his fault!"

The silence was back. Slowly, all heads turned to face Hermione. She had shocked even herself. '_I just shouted at a teacher_' she realised, panicking. She had a perfectly good reason to of course, but she was _Hermione Granger, _the well-known teacher's pet and authority worshipper. She should have been the last person to speak out.

Only one person wasn't struck speechless by her declaration. In fact, it seemed to have knocked him out of his daze.

"She's right," agreed Harry. The stares snapped off of her and onto him. "It's not Neville's fault he needed help remembering how to get into his own home." His eyes held the same fire as when he was chasing a Snitch or conjuring a Patronus

Hermione smiled at the boy-who-lived, feeling an immense amount of gratitude towards him for sticking up for her, as well as... something else. It was a feeling she couldn't quite give a name to.

McGonagall's eyes darted between the two of them in shock. "Potter, Granger, I will ask you both to stay out of this!" she snapped, "I'm sure I don't have to impress the importance of these security measures on you, of all people."

Harry opened his mouth again, but Hermione grabbed his hand and shook her head. He took one look into her determined eyes and sighed, indicating he would let the matter drop. She smiled her thanks and turned back to the professor.

"I'm sorry Professor, we're both tired and not thinking straight right now," she apologised.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed slightly, but Hermione thought she could see something else in them. Something very close to admiration. She nodded at them and looked around to address the room at large.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and returned her eyes to Harry's. "Why did you do that?" she questioned and he gave her an odd look.

"The same reason you did," he replied, "Helping my friend."

She smiled and moved forward to hug him gently.

* * *

Harry froze when she first made contact. This was not a normal Hermione hug. When Hermione hugged you, you would stagger and gasp for breath at the force behind it. This was soft and comforting and very un-Hermione.

He moved his arms around her, unsure how to respond. She pulled him a bit closer and he finally allowed himself to relax. He was dimly aware of Professor McGonagall leaving the Common Room and people around them beginning to whisper to each other.

A million thoughts were speeding through his head at that moment. In the past week, he'd been so preoccupied with other things that he'd completely forgotten there was a madman out to kill him. It was just his luck that the reminder came on one of the best nights of his life.

"He was after me," he voiced the most prominent of his thoughts.

Hermione pulled back from his arms and looked into his eyes. "You can't think like that Harry..."

"It's the truth," he interrupted solemnly, "He was in this tower trying to kill me."

"But he didn't kill you," she reminded him, "Focus on that."

"The only reason I'm not dead is because he got the wrong bed," he insisted. She looked at him with understanding in her eyes, but he didn't want it, "And what if he hadn't checked? What if he'd just stabbed first without thinking? Ron would be... he'd be... and it would all be my fault."

"Stop it!"

The raw emotion in her voice was enough to bring him up short. He could see the tears building in her eyes.

"Remember what you told me earlier, about how I shouldn't blame myself? Well you shouldn't either," her voice was shaking and she looked ready to break down, but all Harry could do was stand and stare. "This is not your fault Harry. It's not your fault Black wants you dead and it's not your fault he got into the tower. It's not yours or Neville's or even Sir Cadogan's. If you're going to blame anyone, blame Black, not yourself. Never yourself..."

The tears were starting to fall now and Harry pulled her back into his arms. They held each other tightly and she cried for him onto his shoulder. He rubbed her back and whispered comfort in her ear.

"Hermione, don't cry. I'm sorry. You're right, it's not my fault, it's his. Please Hermione, don't cry."

She detached herself again and nodded. He gave her a sad smile and her lips twitched in answer.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought them both back to the real world. Harry was suddenly very aware that they were stood in the middle of the common room and were drawing more than a few stares.

They both blushed and moved away from each other. Hermione seemed a bit reluctant to let his hand go, but she did anyway and his fingers felt much colder all of a sudden.

He turned to the source of the cough and saw Neville, who was looking decidedly nervous and uncomfortable.

"Um... I just wanted to say... thanks. To both of you," he said, glancing between them both just as McGonagall had, "Thanks for... well you know... speaking. You didn't have to..."

Harry and Hermione reached up, almost in unison, to place their hands on Neville's shoulders.

"Of course we had to," said Harry, "You're our friend Neville."

"What sort of friends would we be if didn't stick up for each other?"

Harry noticed that her gaze flicked to Ron for half a second when she said this, but he kept quiet.

Neville beamed at Harry's words and blushed a bit at Hermione's. They both smiled back at him then led him over to one of the couches where they could sit down and talk.

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. They knew the castle was being searched again and the whole house stayed awake in the Common Room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Harry and Hermione sat with Neville, repeatedly assuring him that it wasn't his fault. Ron was sat in the corner with Ginny and Percy, both of whom were trying to comfort him. A few curious people tried to move over and talk to him, but the Twins would allow nobody to badger their little brother and were acting as his personal bodyguards.

Finally, near dawn, Professor McGonagall returned to inform them that Black had, once again, escaped. She informed them that the rest of the day's lessons had been cancelled and advised them all to try and get some more sleep.

"Potter! Granger! A word if you please," she called, as Harry and Hermione got up to go back to bed.

They shared a look, but made their way over to the head of Gryffindor.

She appeared to be a bit flustered, no doubt from running around the castle after Black and was still visibly shaken by the night's events.

"The both of you spoke out against me about Longbottom," she stated, peering over her glasses at them.

"Professor we're really sorry about that, honestly," Hermione answered, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Be that as it may, I must take some action," she said cryptically.

Harry's eyes widened. '_Surely she's not going to punish us_' he thought, but that was exactly what it sounded like.

"Five points to the both of you," she finished.

They both blinked.

"Er... sorry?" said Harry, unsure if he'd heard her properly.

"You heard me Potter," she said, a glint in her eye, "You and Miss Granger will both receive five points, for standing up for a friend in his time of need."

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times. He couldn't believe it. "Th- thank you," he stammered.

"Think nothing of it," she replied, before turning and exiting the tower.

The two friends turned to each other and broke into giddy grins.

"I thought for sure she was going to punish us," admitted Hermione.

"I know, me too," he agreed, giving a small laugh, "But, I suppose It's kind of a Gryffindor thing isn't it, standing up when no-one else will."

"I suppose it is," she replied, nodding brightly. Then, she let out a huge yawn.

Harry laughed, "Come on," he said, pulling her towards the stairs, "We all need to catch up on sleep. You more than most I bet."

It seemed she was too tired to even argue, as she just nodded again and silently trudged up the staircase. Just before she disappeared from sight, she looked back and smiled at him.

"Goodnight Harry."

He returned the smile, "Good _morning_, Hermione," he corrected and she chuckled, before continuing up the stairs, to where a soft, comfortable bed awaited her.

* * *

**A/N: **_So, what did you think. Things are definitely going to get shaken up by this night. Not only with Black, but also with Ron, Harry and Hermione, Neville and Luna, everyone. This night is very important to the story as a whole. Until next time, good readers._


	6. Chapter 6: Not Your Fault

**A/N: **_It's been a while my good readers and I thank you for waiting so patiently. I've done something a little different in this chapter. I decided to try writing from someone else's perspective, other than Harry and Hermione, and I would love feedback on it._

* * *

**Chapter 6: Not Your Fault**

The mood in the castle shifted dramatically overnight.

The giddy aftermath that preceded the excitement of Quidditch had been replaced by fear and confusion, emotions that were unsettlingly common at Hogwarts.

The day after the incident, students found that security measures had been tightened severely. The changes were as much to bring comfort to those within, as they were to keep Sirius Black out.

Professor Flitwick had been teaching the front doors to recognise a picture of the escaped prisoner. Filch could be seen stalking the halls, boarding up anything from a crack in the wall to a mouse hole. As if he thought the murderer was pretending to be a rat or something. Harry was reminded of the time that Uncle Vernon had attempted to _letter-proof _the house.

The Fat Lady had been reinstated as guardian of Gryffindor Tower. The staff all seemed to agree that Sir Cadogan had done a catastrophic job in comparison to her. However, the lady's return did not come without a price. The headmaster had been forced to hire a group of burly security trolls to patrol the corridors near her portrait. The presence of such formidable guards was enough to calm the Fat Lady's fears about the previous intrusions.

Harry had noticed that the passage behind the one-eyed witch remained entirely unchanged. It hadn't been blocked or secured or even spared a second glance. It seemed that Fred and George had been right in thinking that they (and now Harry, Ron and Hermione as well) were the only ones who knew of its existence.

Harry had briefly considered pointing it out to Hermione, but he knew that she'd make him tell someone about it. He wasn't quite ready to give up his only way into Hogsmede.

Ron had become an instant celebrity. After he got over the initial shock of having his life threatened, it looked like he actually enjoyed the new experience. For once in his life, the redhead was getting more attention than Harry. Neither of them minded one bit.

Ron, for his part, was still visibly shaken, but was happy to provide a wealth of detail to anyone who asked what had happened. He appeared to have completely forgotten his vendetta against Harry and Hermione. He still refused to speak to them and avoided them wherever he went, but he no longer made any comments about Scabbers and showed nothing other than indifference towards Crookshanks.

Harry was glad Ron was getting the spotlight for once. He knew that it was what the youngest Weasley boy most wanted. The mirror of Erised had shown that in his first year. It felt good to have someone else for people to gawk at and Ron's altered approach to Scabbers had been a convenient bonus. Harry hoped that this threat on Ron's life would help him to move on from the old rat.

Harry was, at this moment, sat in the Great Hall with his breakfast, alone. It was two days since the attack and neither Hermione or Neville had come down to eat yet.

He had been thinking a lot about what had happened and had come quite quickly to a solid conclusion. Hermione was right, none of this was his fault. The blame lay solely at the feet of Sirius Black and that made Harry angry. Terrified yes, but angry at the same time.

There were so many crimes which that man had to answer for. Aside from trying to kill Ron, there was his parents, Peter Pettigrew, the twelve muggles who were killed that night. It was even Black's fault that the Dementors were here. It was Black's fault that Harry had to relive his parents' deaths over and over again. It was Black's fault that he had fallen from his broom.

So, yes, Harry was quite angry at the moment. Black seemed to be the source of all his problems in life, from being stuck with the Dursley's, to losing a Quidditch match. Not that he could do anything. He was still a thirteen-year-old boy, against a full grown madman with years of experience, but that didn't stop him from fantasising about Black receiving the Dementor's Kiss.

It was at this point that Neville entered the Hall and sat down next to Harry, Hermione following not far behind. She took a seat opposite them.

"Good Morning Harry," she greeted brightly, taking a stack of toast from a plate.

"Morning Hermione," he returned, after swallowing the food in his mouth.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes locked onto him.

He sighed. This was becoming something of a ritual. Every morning since the attack, Hermione had come down to breakfast and the first thing she did was ask him how he felt.

"I'm fine," he assured her, although she still looked sceptical, so he added, "Really Hermione, it wasn't me that was almost killed."

She wasn't going to back down however, "You know that's not what I mean Harry," she said, playing with the food on her plate and studying it intently, "When you're alone after something like this, you have a tendency to start... brooding. Especially in the mornings."

He shook his head, "I don't _brood_," he said firmly. She raised an eyebrow at him. He shifted in his seat, "It's not _brooding," _he explained, "I just need to... think sometimes, that's all. Honestly, Hermione I'm fine."

She tilted her head a bit when she looked at him, "You're not still blaming yourself, are you?"

"No," he replied, looking her straight in the eye.

She nodded and smiled, "Good."

He returned her grin, then turned to talk to Neville. The nervous boy had received the worst end of the changes following the break-in. He had been banned from all future Hogsmede visits and given a detention. Professor McGonagall had also forbidden anyone from giving him the password into the tower, so he was forced to wait outside the common room every night for someone to let him in.

Unfortunately, it appeared that his worst punishment yet, would arrive with the morning post.

There was nothing special about the large barn owl that fluttered down to land in front of Neville Longbottom, it was just another owl in the cloud of feathers that descended from the rafters every morning. The bird meant nothing, the red envelope clutched in its beak meant everything.

Neville choked as he took the letter with shaking hands, holding it as if it were a bomb. '_It might as well be_' thought Harry, remembering the one Ron had received the previous year.

"Run for it Neville," he advised, "It's going to go off anyway, so you might as well get somewhere where no-one can hear it."

Neville nodded and sprinted towards the doors, the letter beginning to smoke in his hands. No sooner had he left the room, when they heard the Howler explode in the voice of his Grandmother, shouting how he had brought shame to the family. They could hear the noise getting quieter and quieter. Obviously, Neville hadn't stopped running.

The Slytherin table burst into laughter and Harry glared venomously at them over his pumpkin juice, while Hermione continued to gaze at the barn owl with sorrow in her eyes.

They were so wrapped up in their respective staring, that neither of them noticed a certain Ravenclaw girl wander out of the hall after the Gryffindor and his Howler.

* * *

Neville Longbottom walked aimlessly around the corridors of the castle, the smouldering remains of his letter still crushed in his fist. He knew he was lost and he should probably be making his way to his next lesson, but he just couldn't bring himself to face his classmates right now.

The Howler had simply been the icing on the cake. It had summed up all the shame and regret he had felt over the last couple of days, except with a lot more shouting. It wasn't as though this was anything new, he was always losing things and causing problems without meaning to.

He remembered vividly the time he had gotten caught trying to warn Harry and Hermione about Malfoy. He'd lost Gryffindor fifty points and gained a detention in the Forbidden Forest, for that one. This time was much worse.

Someone had almost died.

He couldn't help having a bad memory and Sir Cadogan had made up a ridiculous password system. Of course he couldn't remember them. He didn't even know how he'd lost the list of words. He could remember leaving it on his bedside table, then when he woke up it was gone.

'_Maybe my memory is just terrible_' he pondered, '_No, my memory _is_ terrible, the only question is if that particular memory is wrong_'

But the cause didn't matter. The damage was done and he had to face the consequences. It wasn't all bad though. He still had his friends.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

He would never have even thought that either of those two would want to be _his_ friend, let alone both of them. He was the forgetful little boy, with the rubbish Toad and the terrible marks. They were two of the most talked about students in school.

Hermione was undoubtedly the smartest girl in their year, perhaps smarter than some of the older students as well. She was well known for always getting full marks in her work, if not higher. All of her achievements were made to look ten times better due to the fact that she was muggle-born and had no experience with magic prior to coming here. Many in Gryffindor called her a know-it-all, but he had seen other people looking impressed with her, Ravenclaws usually.

Harry was... well, he was _Harry Potter. _He was the boy-who-lived, everyone in the school knew his name, before they'd even met him. Harry was also the star of the House Team and, once again, one of the top students in the year. It wasn't just his fame though, Harry was a mystery to pretty much everyone. It seemed that there was always something in him to surprise you. Like in second year, when he'd revealed that he was a Parselmouth or when he'd told the boys in the dorm about how he was raised by Muggles.

And, if brains and fame weren't enough, the two of them always seemed to be at the centre of anything interesting happening in Hogwarts. He had been shocked to find out that they actually _had _helped a dragon to escape in first year and everyone knew the tale of the troll in the bathroom. Then, in second year, there were all those rumours about Harry being the heir of Slytherin and Hermione went and turned herself into a cat... then got petrified.

It just didn't make any sense that those two would even want to talk to him and yet it seemed that they were the only ones who would.

If he was being completely honest, he'd had a bit of a thing for Hermione for these past three years. She was quite pretty, in her own way, and she was always so kind to him...

But he was rapidly realising that it would never go anywhere. It was blindingly obvious that there was someone else in Hermione's life. Neville had eyes, he could see how much they meant to each other, most people could.

Well, most people except them that is.

"Hello Neville," said a familiarly dreamy voice behind him.

That's right. There was one friend he forgot to mention.

"Oh... um, hullo Luna," he replied turning face the second-year girl. She smiled at him with a slightly vacant expression on her face. He gave her a half smile in return.

The Ravenclaw was still an enigma to him, to all of them in fact. They had met her only four days ago and she hadn't gotten any easier to understand. It wasn't just the odd little comments she made or the aura of strangeness that she seemed to exude, she seemed to believe anything you told her if she found no way to prove it wrong.

He didn't want to use the word _gullible, _but it seemed to be quite an accurate one for some of her beliefs. Then again, those dirigible plums she kept going on about sounded curious...

And, she was one of only three people to give him the time of day, since the incident in the tower.

'_Just another thing that makes her different_'

Luna's eyes moved slowly down to rest on the envelope in his hand, "I heard that go off," she said, matter-of-factly. He winced at the reminder of his grandmother's words.

"I'm sorry," she continued quickly, seeing the look in his eyes, "Was it from your parents?"

Again, that made him wince.

'_My parents can't even remember their own names_' he thought sourly '_Let alone give me a lecture_' His father had been mentioned in the Howler, just like he always was when Neville did something wrong.

"No," he replied finally, "It was from my, um... grandmother."

Her brow scrunched a little as she continued to stare at the letter, then her eyes widened in what looked like understanding.

"Oh, I see..." she let the sentence drop, doing that thing again were she spoke without addressing you directly.

The two stood in that corridor for almost a minute in awkward silence. Neville cast about for something to say, while Luna just continued to gaze off into the distance thoughtfully. Neville was about to say something to break the tension when...

"It wasn't your fault, you know."

Neville blinked, "Er... what?"

"What happened to your house-mate. It wasn't your fault," her eyes had returned to his, but still looked distant.

He turned his face towards the ground in shame, "It was," he admitted, "I did something... stupid. Wrote down the passwords. Left them lying around. Nearly got Ron killed..." As his admission went on, it seemed more like he was mumbling to himself than talking to Luna. He went on to repeat most of the letter's messages. Shame on the family. Disgrace to his father.

"I don't think it was stupid," said Luna, as if that should have obvious, "I thought it was a good idea."

Neville thought he must have misheard her, "What?" he repeated.

She shrugged, "You couldn't remember the passwords, so you wrote them down and kept them with you. It's better than having to sleep outside because you couldn't get through your own front door."

He shook his head, "But... but if I hadn't done it, then Black... he wouldn't have..." he sputtered, struggling to come up with an argument he hadn't already given.

She smiled, "It wasn't your fault you lost that list. If Black can escape Azkaban, I imagine stealing a password wouldn't be too difficult."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. Luna did make an excellent point. If Black could reach Gryffindor Tower twice, then surely he could find a way to steal a bit of parchment.

"I don't blame you," the odd girl continued, "And neither do Harry or Hermione. Now, I really need to get to Charms." With that final statement, she turned and began skipping down the corridor.

Neville felt uplifted by her words, just as he had by Harry and Hermione's the other day. Then, her last words hit him like a hammer and he realised that he was completely lost. Even worse, his first class would be starting soon. He felt dread fill him as he remembered that the lesson was Potions.

Just as he was starting to panic, his blonde friend stopped and looked back at him. The understanding was back in her eyes, "Turn around, take the first left then go down the second staircase on your right. That'll get you to the dungeons." She smiled brightly and turned a corner, disappearing from view before Neville could thank her.

The round faced boy frowned again and followed her directions. He soon found himself not far from Professor Snape's classroom. He was astonished for only a second, before he hurried towards the lesson. Thoughts were running wild in his head.

'_How did she know how to get here?_' he wondered '_How did she know I needed directions? How did she even know I _had_ Potions?_'

He decided to push these thoughts to one side. Trying to understand a girl like Luna Lovegood would probably just send him insane.

* * *

**A/N: **_And there you go, a new chapter. Perhaps a little more Luna/Neville centred this time, but I felt they needed this scene. Again, I'd love feedback on that section, as I've very little experience with writing from Neville's perspective. As always, feel free to ask any questions you may have. Until next time, good readers._


	7. Chapter 7: Like All Cats Do

**A/N:**_ Welcome back, good readers. So, this chapter's the longest yet and there's a perspective that many of you may find unexpected, but it was needed and I wanted to remind people that this person is still important to the story. Harry also makes a startling revelation, with a little help from Hermione, and Hagrid spouts wisdom. Please, enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter 7: Like All Cats Do**

Ron Weasley watched as a curious scene unfolded before him in the middle of the Great Hall, a spoonful of cereal hovering just a few inches from his mouth. He saw Neville sprint right past him as he made for the door, then heard the shrieks that emanated from beyond the towering doorway.

He grimaced at the sound. His heart filled with pity for the boy, he could still remember the shouts of his own mother echoing throughout the hall, the helplessness he'd experienced in front of a yelling piece of parchment. It was not a fate he would wish on anyone.

'_Well, maybe one person_' he thought bitterly, while his eyes fell upon Hermione.

It wasn't that he didn't like her, in fact she was normally a good friend. It just really annoyed him that she wasn't willing to admit she was wrong. Maybe a Howler would wake her up.

He'd expected that if he ignored her and left her to her own thoughts, eventually she'd come to her senses and apologise about what her... _beast_ did. Unfortunately, he hadn't considered that Harry might not agree with him. Now it was Ron who was left to stew in his own thoughts.

He had been shocked when Harry had said he was supporting her. He could understand Hermione being reluctant to admit her mistake, but he'd expected Harry to see reason.

The fact that they were both against him had given Ron a hint of doubt about his actions. He was fine hanging around with Dean and Seamus and he always had Fred and George, but it just wasn't the same as spending time with Harry and Hermione.

It was probably all the things they'd done together. It wasn't required, but something about facing down trolls, giant spiders and carnivorous vines together certainly strengthened a friendship.

Since the attack on Gryffindor Tower, Ron had re-evaluated his stance on Scabbers' death. He still downright refused to apologise first, Hermione's attitude was just as bad as his. He knew he was being a bit of git, but it annoyed him that she was so certain she was right. He would only let the matter go when she admitted she was wrong and said sorry for doubting him.

However, he was ready to admit to himself that he'd been going about this the wrong way. He'd been trying to keep Scabbers' on her mind and make her feel guilty, but Harry's constant support of her made that nearly impossible.

He was so wrapped up in his musings that he failed to notice the brown owl waiting impatiently for him to take his letter. That is, until the bird nipped him sharply on the wrist.

"Ouch! Get off!" he exclaimed, jerking his hand back. The bird just looked at him with irritated eyes. He grumbled something about even the owls not liking him and roughly pulled the note off the birds leg. The owl took off again the minute the parchment was gone.

Ron tore open the envelope gloomily and unfolded the letter.

_Ron,_

_How about coming down for tea this afternoon around six? I got something I want to talk to you about and I reckon you'll want to get out of the castle after what happened the other night._

_Cheers,_

_Hagrid._

Ron read the invitation quickly and his brow creased. He couldn't think of what Hagrid would want to talk to him about. Then, he re-read the last line and his eyes brightened.

'_He probably wants to hear all about Black_' Ron deduced, stuffing the parchment in his pocket and getting up to head to Potions.

Ever since the incident, people had been coming to him asking for details. Details he was happy to provide. He may have added some embellishment to the tale, but he couldn't help it. Nobody had really paid any attention to _him_ before, he was quite sure that the rest of the school knew him as _Harry-and-Hermione's-Weasley-Friend. _

He did like being associated with the boy-who-lived and the smartest witch in the year, but it made being noticed rather difficult. Add in the fact that every single one of his brothers was well known for something and it became quite frustrating. So yes, he was making the most of this spotlight that had been cast on him.

* * *

At six o'clock, Ron found himself stood outside Hagrid's hut, knocking for entry. The door opened and he was faced with the colossal man himself looking down at him.

"All right, Hagrid," he greeted, "S'pose you want to hear all about Saturday night, do you?"

"I already heard all abou' it," Hagrid replied dismissively, ushering him inside.

"Oh," he said, slightly put out. He'd spent most of the day thinking about how much to exaggerate when he spoke with Hagrid.

The first thing he noticed when he entered was a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a bright yellow and orange tie, hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door.

"What are they for Hagrid?" he asked as he took a seat at the table.

"Buckbeak's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures," said Hagrid, "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down teh London together. I've booked us two beds on the Knight Bus..."

Ron felt a pang of guilt. He had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near and his promise to help Hagrid prepare. The Firebolt and Scabbers had driven it clean out of his mind.

He accepted the cup of tea Hagrid offered, but ignored the plate of bath buns. He'd had too much experience of Hagrid's _cooking._

"Is... er," began Ron awkwardly, "Is Buckbeak what you wanted to talk about?"

Hagrid sat down across from him and turned uncharacteristically serious. "No," he clarified in a similarly serious voice, "I've got somethin' else teh discuss with yeh."

"Er, what, exactly?" he asked nervously. He definitely didn't like this tone Hagrid was using.

"Hermione,"

Ron blinked, then snorted. "What about her?" he queried, his voice laced with irritation.

"She's in a righ' state, that's what," Hagrid's voice was slightly darker when he said this, "Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebol', now yer not talkin' to her because her cat..."

"...ate Scabbers!" Ron interjected angrily. He was getting annoyed now. Didn't Hagrid see that she just needed to apologise.

"Because her cat acted like all cats do," Hagrid continued, ignoring the outburst, "Harry's bin down here a few times. Says she's bin crying abou' it... an' other things. Worried abou' her he is, reckons she's bitten off more'n she can chew, with all that work she's doin'. Both o' them found time teh help with Buckbeak's case though... they've found some good stuff fer me... he should stand a chance now..."

Ron's anger was drowned by an immense feeling of guilt at Hagrid's words. Hermione had a huge workload, Harry had Quidditch and his extra lessons with Lupin, yet they had both found time to help. It was more than he'd done.

"Hagrid, I should've helped as well... sorry..." Ron began.

"I'm not blamin' yeh," assured Hagrid, waving the apology off, "I can see how yeh migh' get distracted after Scabbers. I remember how I was after Aragog... an' Norbert," his eyes turned serious again as he looked at Ron, "I jus' thought yeh'd value yer friends more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all."

Ron winced a bit. "That's what Harry said," he revealed.

Hagrid nodded, "Yeh should listen to him more, an' Hermione. They've got their hearts in the righ' place, those two. They were both really upset when Black nearly stabbed yeh."

Ron felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of them worrying about him, but he pushed it aside. "If she'd just get rid of that cat I'd speak to them again," he said exasperatedly, "But, they're both sticking up for it. It's a maniac and they won't hear a word against it!"

"Ah well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Hagrid wisely.

Ron nodded in agreement, failing to realise that the statement could be used just as easily to describe him, as Hermione.

* * *

Hermione practically collapsed into an armchair by the end of her day.

She was surprised to find the common room entirely empty, but too tired to care. She'd had to repeat two hours for her double Muggle Studies class and it had exhausted her greatly. Harry had noticed this at dinner and, once again, expressed his concern about her workload.

To be honest, she was starting to see his point. She knew that repeated use was not healthy for her and this tiredness could have a bad effect on her exams.

Perhaps it was time to drop Divination. That subject was the only one she was willing to give up and she would still need to repeat hours for her classes if she did. However, it would free up a lot of her time and give her a more manageable workload.

She began to extract books from her bag and lay them across the table in front of her, when a ball of ginger fur chose that moment to leap up on top of her bag.

She leaned back in surprise and the cat took that as an invitation to curl up and purr.

"Crookshanks..." she sighed, shaking her head, "Crookshanks, I need to get my work done." She attempted to remove the offending feline, but he remained resolute where he was.

She sighed again and began to stroke him lightly, resigning to the fact that he would not be moved any time soon. Obviously, Crookshanks also thought she should take a break. Not that she was complaining, it was quite relaxing really, to just be sat here without worrying about her work.

She looked down and was struck by how cute the animal was when he did things like this. Frowning, she began to wonder how something so cute had managed to drive a wedge between her friends. She sometimes felt like it was her fault that Harry and Ron were not talking. She found herself feeling a bit guilty about breaking such a friendship.

It was as she thought this that the portrait hole opened to her right. She turned and saw Harry stride in and place his bag next to hers, taking the seat across from her.

He smiled at the sight of Crookshanks and said, "I think that's the first time I've seen you without a book in your hand since the start of the year."

She smiled back and continued to stroke her cat. "I think he agrees with you about me needing a rest," she said gesturing at the animal, "He can get overprotective sometimes."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure he doesn't just enjoy being petted?"

She shrugged at that. "I wouldn't know. I don't speak cat," she replied, "But I often think he's more intelligent than we realise."

Harry nodded, "Maybe he is. I'm guessing you still want to get work done though."

She nodded reluctantly. She knew Harry and Crookshanks meant well, but she really did need to get that Runes essay done.

Harry sighed and a look of resignation crossed his face. Then, he got up and walked over to her, where he attempted to remove Crookshanks from his position on her bag.

The cat hissed as he was scooped up in Harry's arms. "Come on," said Harry, "Let's leave the girl to work. Trust me, I've known her longer than you, and you don't want to get between her and her essays."

Hermione let out a laugh at the sight of Harry struggling with the hissing feline. She watched as Harry sat back down again and fought to keep Crookshanks in place, "No," he said and scratched the cat behind the ears, "Stay here. It'll keep her happy."

Crookshanks gave a long purr as Harry continued to stroke him softly. Slowly, the cat began to relax on Harry's lap and continued to purr contentedly.

"I think we were both right," said Harry, staring at the animal, "He does want you to take a break, but he definitely enjoys this." Crookshanks purred in agreement.

Hermione didn't answer. She just smiled as she took in the content look on both Harry and Crookshanks' faces. The both of them looked so peaceful sat there, a look she rarely saw on either of them these days.

She once again found herself thinking about how cute he looked like that. Although, this time, she wasn't sure whether she was thinking about the boy or the cat.

Her eyes widened as she caught up with that thought.

She quickly stuck her head into her bag, to hide her blush, under the pretence of finding her books. '_Did I just call Harry cute?_' she asked herself, knowing the answer was yes.

This wasn't the first time she'd caught herself having such thoughts about Harry, but she kept discarding them. '_He's my best friend_' she reasoned, '_I shouldn't be thinking about him like this. I am _not _thinking about him like this. I don't need to make things complicated_'

It was all the twins' fault. If they hadn't mentioned it the morning before the match, then she wouldn't be thinking like this. At least, that's what she told herself.

She stayed with her head buried in her bag until she was certain that the colour in her cheeks had faded. Only then did she emerge, and was met with the same, very _not _cute sight. It was wrong to think of it as cute.

When she pulled out her planner however, she realised that there actually was something wrong with this scene. She checked her watch to confirm it, then looked up at Harry.

"Harry?" she started and he looked up at her.

"Yeah, Hermione?"

"Why are you here?" she asked, "I thought you had a lesson with Lupin today."

Harry nodded, "I did, but he cancelled it. He said he was feeling ill again."

Hermione frowned and flicked to today's date in her planner. There was a little note in the corner which said _Full Moon. _Her face paled slightly. She'd already proved her suspicions, but it still helped to keep track and make sure he didn't miss one.

He hadn't missed one since she'd started making these notes.

She still wasn't sure what it meant. She was certain that they couldn't _all_ be bad, no matter what she'd read while researching for Snape. Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he thought he was dangerous.

She looked up to see Harry staring at her with narrowed eyes. "You know something, don't you?" he asked her.

She sighed, still surprised that she was the only one to work it out. It wasn't exactly difficult to see. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked genuinely. She got a strong sense of deja vu and realised that they'd had this conversation before, but Ron had interrupted before she could share her theory.

Harry chuckled lightly, "Sorry Hermione, but we can't all be as smart as you."

She turned a little pink again at his statement and explained, "Well, it's not that hard to figure out. I'm sure Professor Snape knows, he's been dropping hints about it all the time."

"Snape? What are you talking about?" Harry frowned in obvious confusion.

Hermione bit her lip. She didn't want to outright tell him, she felt he should work it out for himself.

"Harry, think about Snape's Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Everything he did, he did to try and reveal Lupin's secret. I'm actually surprised I'm the only one who saw it, but I suppose the rest of you were too busy glaring at Snape to notice."

Harry shook his head, "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about Hermione. The only thing Snape seemed interested in teaching us about was..."

Harry's eyes widened and she saw the realisation spread across his face.

"No," he said, disbelief still written in his features.

"Yes," she countered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"No. Hermione that's just... he's not..."

She rolled her eyes at his spluttering and decided to explain some more, "It's not just Snape, Harry. I began to notice while I was reading up for his essay, so I did a bit of digging. Remember what Ron said, Lupin wasn't in the Hospital Wing when he was supposed to be sick and his boggart, it wasn't a crystal ball, it was a _moon._ I've checked the dates he was ill against a lunar chart and it's always a full moon. Every time."

Harry just sat there, his mouth working furiously, but no sound escaping. She couldn't really blame him, he'd been spending a lot of time alone with the Professor recently.

"I even checked up on that potion Snape made," she continued, hoping to alleviate some of his fears, "I think it's _Wolfsbane. _It would explain why we haven't seen any more obvious signs. It would also explain why Snape knows about it, he would have had to make it each time Lupin... changed_._"

Harry just shook his head, still denying her logic, "You... you can't be serious about this Hermione."

She looked at him sadly and decided she should stop beating around the bush.

"I am serious, Harry. Professor Lupin is a werewolf."

* * *

Harry was shocked into silence by her words. It was one thing for her to imply that his favourite teacher was a werewolf, it was another thing for her to say it.

A thousand questions were racing through his mind. He could remember all those books he'd read on werewolves when Snape had set the essay. Everything he read about them screamed darkness and savagery. It made them sound like animals even when they weren't in their wolf form.

Lupin just didn't fit that image at all.

However absurd the notion was, Harry found that he believed Hermione. Not because he understood the evidence she'd listed or that he could even imagine Lupin as a wolf. No, Harry believed her because he knew her, and he knew she wouldn't lie about something like this.

So his next question was quite important, because it was the only bit he couldn't believe.

"But, Hermione. If he was a werewolf, surely he'd do more than get a little sick every full moon."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. Harry guessed that she'd probably already explained that and he hadn't understood.

"That's because of the Wolfsbane Harry," she began, going into what Harry silently referred to as her _professor mode, _"I don't really understand how it works, it's incredibly complex, but from what I can gather, it renders the drinker more... docile."

Harry frowned at the suggestion, "You mean that potion Snape gave him stops him from becoming a wolf."

She shook her head, "No. I think he still... _changes,_ but he's not as wild when it happens. The potion most likely allows him to keep his mind and then he locks himself up somewhere. His office maybe?"

Harry frowned and fidgeted. Now that the shock had worn off, he could kind of accept that his teacher was a werewolf. In fact, it went a long way to explaining the tired look in the Professor's eyes. There was only one thing still weighing on Harry's mind.

"So he's... safe then?" he asked tentatively, "I mean from what Snape told us about werewolves..."

Hermione nodded, obviously understanding his worry, "I think they're just misunderstood Harry. I mean, it's not like they're animals all the time. By day, they're just like us, but I don't believe that everyone thinks that way. It must have been really hard for Professor Lupin to find a job and it would explain why he always wears those rags."

Harry thought about that. It made sense. Lupin was really the only werewolf Harry had any experience with and if he was anything to go by, then Hermione's logic seemed sound. As usual.

Harry went back over the points she'd made. He remembered the glowing white orb that hung unsupported in the middle of the classroom and the steaming goblet that Lupin sipped from slowly.

Suddenly, Harry found himself believing it. All of it. Which presented another question.

"Who else do you think knows?"

Hermione frowned in a way he recognised. It was the frown that said she was mentally calculating the answer to a question which she hadn't thought of until it was posed to her. He rarely saw that frown, usually she had the answers ready before you even asked.

"Dumbledore and Snape, definitely, and probably Madam Pomfrey. It wouldn't surprise me if other members of staff know, but I doubt very much that any of the students do. Unless, they figured it out like we did."

He nodded, bowing to her logic this time, "Do you think... I mean, should we talk to him about it?" he wondered out loud.

She bit her lip and a different frown crossed her face. It was the one that appeared when you asked her a question she was already struggling to find the answer to.

"I don't think so," she began, sounding unsure, "I don't think we should draw any unwanted attention to it. If I'm right about how people treat werewolves, then this information could get Lupin sacked. It's also possible that he's... ashamed of it."

"Ashamed? Why?" Harry asked, his confusion evident on his face.

Hermione gave him a look and Harry got the feeling he may have just said something very stupid.

"Harry, he's probably been treated badly for it his whole life. Like I said, he would have struggled to get a job and not many people are as understanding as Dumbledore. This would have been a black mark on his entire life."

Harry frowned again as her implications sunk in, "But, that's not fair. It's hardly his fault if he got bitten."

Hermione's own expression darkened, "I know it's not fair Harry. I think it's appalling, but it's most likely true."

Harry sat back in his chair and ran his hands down his face. He was being shown a much darker side of the wizarding world this year. He had seen the face of a man who killed thirteen people with a single curse, a man who was now after _him_. He was learning of the corruption that was found in the courtrooms through his research for Buckbeak's trial. He had experienced creatures that sapped your very soul and trapped you in your worst nightmares.

And now, this.

He turned back to Hermione, to see that she was looking at him expectantly. She wanted to hear his agreement or disagreement.

"Okay," he said finally, "We'll keep quiet about it. If you're right, then the man deserves some privacy."

She beamed at him and returned to taking her books out of her bag. He sighed and gazed out of a nearby window, pondering what this new revelation meant. When he reached the conclusion that it didn't really change anything at the moment, he stood up to remove his books from his bag.

He was, of course, answered by angry hissing and claw marks on his legs. He had forgotten that Crookshanks was on his lap. The feline hissed at him again and stalked off towards the portrait hole, somehow managing to walk in a way that conveyed how offended he was.

Hermione watched the scene with mild amusement and Harry collapsed back into his chair, gently rubbing his legs where Crookshanks' claws had been.

"Great," he said throwing his arms in the air dramatically, "Now I have _two _gingers that hate me. As if things weren't bad enough."

He and Hermione took one look into each other's eyes and burst into laughter.

Any dark thoughts about werewolves were lost immediately.

* * *

**A/N: **_Yes, I decided to write Ron. I would love to know what you think of his attitude, since it's an important part of the plot. Also, Harry now knows about Lupin, I doubt it's going to change much until the events in the Shrieking Shack, but there it is. Until next time, good readers._


	8. Chapter 8: Do You Feel Ready

**A/N:**_ Hello, good readers! I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have reviewed, favourited, followed or just taken the time to read my story. I had planned this chapter to be a celebration of reaching 100 reviews. I say planned because, alas, I appear to be stuck at 99 and I don't want to keep you waiting any longer, so... yay! 99 reviews! Okay I'll stop rambling now and let you get on with the story._

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**Chapter 8: Do You Feel Ready**

Harry and Hermione arrived early to their next Defence against the Dark Arts class.

It wasn't by chance. In fact, Harry had been asked to arrive at this time in a letter he had received at lunch. Apparently, Lupin had something he wanted to discuss with him before the lesson began.

Hermione had tagged along, just in case it had anything to do with the matter they had discussed a few days ago.

When they entered the room, they found that the desks had all been shifted to one side, suggesting the lesson later would be another practical one. Professor Lupin currently had his back to the door and was working with something on the front desk.

Harry found himself looking at the werewolf in a new light. He had always had a lot of respect for the man, even before he began helping him with the dementors. Now that he knew his teacher's secret however, Harry found his opinion of him reaching new heights.

From what Hermione had said about the wizarding world's attitude to werewolves, it sounded eerily similar to how Harry had been treated by the Dursleys. Looked down on because of something out of your control, greeted with mistrust by anyone you met, forced to dress in rags all the time. That was pretty much a regular day at Number 4.

Harry found he was able to understand the werewolf's plight and that understanding inspired even more respect for him.

"Professor, you wanted to see me?" said Harry, breaking the silence.

Lupin turned to face them and a tired smile crossed his face. "Ah Harry, good to see you. You too, Hermione," he greeted, gesturing for them to enter, "Come in, come in. I have something I want to talk to you about."

The two students entered and approached the front desk. As they moved forward, Harry was able to get a good view of what was on the desk. He frowned at the sight of the very familiar packing case and turned to lupin. "Professor, is that what I think it is?" he asked.

Lupin turned and patted the case. "Yes," he confirmed, "I've decided that, with the exams so close, it would be beneficial for the class to go over the topics we haven't covered in a while."

"You mean we're facing another boggart?" Harry said.

"Yes, actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about," clarified Lupin, looking at Harry with a curious expression, "It is likely that you'll face the boggart, at some point in the lesson, and I'm wondering how confident you feel about going up against a dementor in front of the class."

Harry gulped, "Do you mean... with a Patronus?" he asked nervously, thinking of the feeble silver mist that he could barely conjure.

However, Lupin smiled and shook his head, "No, we're aiming to banish the boggart, so we will be using the _Riddikulus_ spell again, but I think we can both agree that a dementor is far worse than whatever will appear for anyone else. The despair that it would inspire could affect everyone's ability to face their fears. I need to know if you feel ready."

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief and nodded, "I think I can manage that Professor." If he was facing it as a boggart, instead of as a dementor, then he could handle it. Plus, it would help him prove to his classmates that he hadn't fallen from his broom because he was weak. Now, he just had to think of a way to make a dementor funny, piece of cake.

Lupin was nodding. "Good, good. Now, the both of you should get yourselves ready. The rest of the class will be showing up soon."

They nodded and moved over to the side, where they began to discuss how they would approach the next lesson. It was while they were considering the possibilities of a funny dementor, that Harry noticed they were focusing entirely on his boggart.

"Hermione," he began, his brow furrowed. She turned to look at him and he began to fidget, this wasn't exactly something small he was asking, "What... what would your boggart look like? I mean, we both know what I'll be facing, but what about you?"

That question seemed to catch her off guard and she stared at him for a few seconds before she reacted. When she did, her eyes turned to the ground and she shrunk into herself subconsciously.

"I... I don't really want to say. It's a little embarrassing." Her cheeks were a bit pink and she seemed determined to avoid his gaze.

"Why not?" asked Harry, even more curious now, "You can tell me. I promise, whatever it is, I won't laugh at you."

She finally looked back at him and gave him a small smile, "I know you wouldn't Harry, but..." She sighed and turned away again, "I just don't really want to talk about it. I'm still not even sure how I could possibly make it funny."

"Maybe I could help you then," offered Harry.

She smiled at him again and shook her head, "I... I'm sure I'll think of something Harry, I have to. I'm more worried about people knowing what it is."

Harry nodded and submitted to the fact that Hermione wasn't going to reveal this to him. It was obvious that she was deeply embarrassed by it and more than a little afraid of what he would think of her if he knew about it. He could understand that, this was her greatest fear they were talking about.

At this point, several of their classmates had begun to file into the room and were conversing quietly in small groups. The two of them spotted Neville milling about on his own in the corner and moved over to speak to him.

While they waited for the lesson to begin, Harry managed to catch Ron staring at them from where he stood with Seamus and Dean. Strangely, Harry could find no anger in his eyes. Instead, he had a puzzled look on his face, as if he was considering coming over to talk to them.

Harry was about to point this out to Hermione, when Lupin cleared his throat and began the lesson. He started by repeating the explanation he'd given Harry and Hermione earlier about the closeness of the exams and the need to revisit their knowledge of boggarts.

The next part of the lesson passed in a similar fashion to the first one. Students were called forth one by one and had to turn their greatest fear into something comical. Several students who hadn't had a shot at the creature the first time were given another chance, while there were also a few repeat performances (most notably the return of Grandma Snape).

It was after Parvati once again beheaded her mummy that it happened. The disembodied head rolled around for a bit, before it came to stop a few feet from Hermione.

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. Maybe it was the look of sheer terror that crossed Hermione's face. Maybe it was the fact that she felt ashamed of her fear and he didn't want people to see what it was. Maybe it was the memory of how uncertain she sounded about facing it.

Regardless of why he did it, Harry found himself stepping between Hermione and the boggart, in a similar way to how Professor Lupin had stepped up in their first lesson.

There was a second of silence where everyone in the room stared at him, even the head, and then...

_Crack!_

The entire room gasped and a few of the girls screamed.

The severed head had transformed into a tall, hooded figure, which drew long rattling breaths that seemed to suck all warmth out out the air. The folds of black cloth shifted and a skeletal hand reached out towards him.

Everyone in the room shivered as they felt a sickening wave of despair wash over them and the temperature plummeted. Nobody could hope to face their fears now, their heads were filled with the worst of their memories, they had no hope...

"_Riddikulus!" _cried Harry.

_Crack!_

Everyone blinked in surprise as the Dementor stumbled on its long cloak, falling to its knees before Harry. It reached up and tried to scramble to its feet, but the lengths of black material were twisted around its body, preventing it from moving properly.

The room began to come to its senses and people started to smile uncertainly at the creature struggling on the floor. It lurched forward and groped in Harry's general direction, but fell to the floor again, unaccustomed to the feel of having legs.

Harry let out a small, nervous laugh.

The boggart exploded into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke.

"Excellent Harry, five points to Gryffindor!" Lupin said, moving to the front of the class and smiling, "And five points to everyone else who faced the boggart as well. That will be all today, I think. For homework, I want a review on all the topics we covered in our first term, on my desk by Monday."

* * *

Hermione trailed behind Harry and Neville on the way to dinner, her eyes fixed on the back of the boy-who-lived.

She still wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about what had happened in the previous lesson, but she was aware of the glances being sent at her and Harry by the rest of the class. She was more than a little frustrated at Harry for stepping in like he did. '_Does he think I can't handle myself?_' she wondered. The idea that he might think of her as weak greatly irritated her, but she couldn't deny the warm feeling she got when she thought of him being concerned about her.

That warm feeling confused her and only added to her frustration at the whole situation. She already had enough to deal with, she didn't need to throw her puzzling thoughts about Harry into the mix.

Despite her uncertain feelings, she knew that she needed to have a _talk_ with her best friend about this. So, just as they were about to reach the Great Hall, she stepped up beside him and grabbed his arm. He turned slightly and looked at her.

"We need to talk," she said simply, not needing to tell him what about.

He looked into her eyes for a second or two then nodded, telling Neville to go on ahead. They then made their way to a deserted classroom, far from the probing eyes they would find at dinner. Harry closed the door behind him and turned to face her.

She leaned against one of the desks and looked at the wall, not daring to look into his eyes for fear of what she might find. There was a moment of awkward silence before she finally spoke.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

She heard him sigh and resisted the urge to turn to him. "I don't know," he admitted, "I guess I was just worried about what you said earlier. You didn't sound very confident and you obviously didn't want people to see... well whatever would have appeared."

The warmth returned as he expressed his concern for her, but she pushed it down angrily. '_This isn't the time!_' she berated her mind. "It isn't that simple Harry," she said tersely, "You're not going to be there to help in the exam. I need to learn how to face this on my own and, to do that, I need to practice."

"I know, I'm sorry..."

She finally looked up at his words and immediately wished she hadn't. When she had dragged him in here, she had intended to scold him for interfering with her learning and thinking she was weak, but she just... couldn't.

His eyes were filled with concern for her and nervous guilt about what she was saying. The sight of such emotions was enough to cool her temper, but not enough to make her drop the matter.

"Harry I know you mean well," she started, still gazing into his eyes, "But, this is something I need to deal with on my own. I can't rely on you to step in front of me when I'm being assessed. Please, I need to face this alone." Her voice was becoming slightly pleading towards the end.

Harry just shook his head slightly, "Hermione, you're the most brilliant person I know, but it's obvious that you're terrified. Not just of facing this, but of what others will think if they find out." He took a step towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder before continuing, "I don't think being made to face whatever it is in front of the entire class would have been very helpful to you."

She couldn't fault the logic behind that and, as much as she wanted to be mad at him, he was right. She had been petrified at the thought of facing the boggart and she still had no idea how to make it funny. She was also sure that people would laugh at her if they saw it and the prospect of people laughing at what she feared most mortified her.

"You're right," she said softly, turning away again, "It probably wouldn't have been good for me to break down in front of half the year." She was only partly joking with this comment.

Harry ignored the weak attempt at humour. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" he questioned.

She met his eyes without fear this time and allowed his concern to wash over her. It made her feel oddly comfortable. She knew that he was genuinely concerned and would listen to her without laughing if she told him.

But, she still couldn't do it. It was just too embarrassing.

She gave him a half smile, which he returned. "I can't Harry, not until I'm sure that I'm right and I have a way to counter it."

He nodded in understanding. "Just... why don't you talk to Lupin about it," he advised, "Maybe he can give you a chance to practice on your own. Believe me, whatever it is, he won't laugh at you... and neither will I."

She frowned at the suggestion, it really was a good one. If anyone could help her with this, it was Professor Lupin. It actually wouldn't be that different from how he was helping Harry with the dementors and she knew that he wouldn't judge her, just like Harry wouldn't.

After a moments consideration, she nodded and Harry grinned at her. She found herself smiling back automatically. "Come on then," she said, leading him back towards the door, "We'd better get to dinner, I know how you get when you're hungry."

"I think you're mistaking me for Ron," he replied, just as his stomach gave a loud groan.

She laughed lightly and he shot her a mock glare, "Okay, it's official," he declared, "My gut has the worst timing."

She chuckled again and nodded. They were stood just outside the classroom and Hermione had a sudden impulse to hug him, which she acted on instantly.

He seemed a little taken aback by the contact, but she pulled back before he could react suitably. "Thank you," she said.

He frowned at her. "What for?" he asked.

"For helping me," she shrugged "I know I didn't seem very grateful for it, but I am."

He just smiled and said, "Anytime, Hermione."

* * *

**A/N: **_Originally, I was just using the Defence lesson as a way of showing Harry's altered opinion towards Lupin after discovering his... condition. But, while re-reading PoA, I couldn't help but notice what Hermione's boggart took the shape of and decided to explore this more deeply than JKR did. In the end, a section that was meant to be short and concise ended up taking up a whole chapter. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read my story. As always, let me know what you think. Until next time, good readers._


	9. Chapter 9: We Need To Talk

**A/N: **_Welcome back, good readers! In this chapter, I am once again trying a new perspective, one that I think you'll enjoy. In other news, Ron seeks advice from an unexpected source and Harry is compared to his father._

* * *

**Chapter 9: We Need To Talk**

"We need to talk."

'_Four words_' thought Neville, as he watched his two friends, '_How can they communicate so much with only four words?_'

The round faced boy looked on as a meaningful glance passed between Harry and Hermione. In the end, Harry just nodded and told Neville to go on ahead of him, then scurried off with her to find somewhere private to talk.

Neville stood there for a moment, watching the two go. He was still trying to figure out how they could exchange so much information with just four words. After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his daze and entered the Great Hall. He wandered over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat on his own.

He allowed his mind to drift back to the scene he had just witnessed. Not just the wordless conversation, but also the way Harry had stepped up in DADA. Neville hadn't even noticed that Hermione needed help and he was fairly sure nobody else had either, except Harry of course.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the bond they shared. He had told himself repeatedly that his crush wasn't going to happen, but it was still difficult to drop it, especially when Hermione continued to be so helpful and considerate towards him.

'_I just have to let it go_' he told himself for the millionth time, '_She's never going to look at _any_ boy twice while Harry's there, I'm no exception_'

It didn't help that she was the only girl who would even want to be _friends_ with him, let alone anything more than that. '_Actually there is one other_' he remembered, as he caught sight of her across the room. Strangely, she was sitting on her own. In fact, it almost seemed like the rest of the Ravenclaws were avoiding sitting anywhere near her. He couldn't really understand why. Yes, she was a bit odd, but she was really nice as well.

He was knocked out of his musings by one of the most unexpected things possible. Ron Weasley sat across from him and started talking to him.

"All right Neville," he greeted, before grabbing a plate and filling it with food.

"Er, hullo Ron," he returned, slightly confused. Ron never really spoke to him much, not nearly as much as Harry and Hermione, but he'd always been somewhat friendly, so he didn't have anything against him.

So far, Neville managed to stay out of the big confrontation between Ron and Hermione and he hoped to keep it that way. He knew full well that he couldn't stand up to an angry Weasley, he'd been on the receiving end of Ginny's temper once last year (An occurrence that he didn't want to repeat).

A few moments of uncertain silence hung in the air before the redhead spoke again. "Listen Neville, I need your help," he said, leaning forward and a serious expression crossing his face.

Neville was _very_ confused now. He wasn't sure what help he could offer anyone, with anything. "Um, what... what with?" he asked, tripping over his words a little in his puzzlement.

Ron looked a bit uncomfortable with the whole discussion and shifted in his seat a bit. "It's about Hermione... and Harry, as well," he revealed.

Neville frowned at that, it certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting. "What about them?"

"I want to try and... patch things up with them," he explained, looking like it took him great effort just to say those words, "I want to see if we can put this... whatever this is, behind us."

This admission further surprised Neville. "That's great Ron, but why do you need me?"

Ron sighed and bowed his head a bit. "I'm not sure how to go about it," he admitted, "I don't even know whether they want to try and fix this and... I thought... well, you've been spending a lot of time with them, maybe you help me out?" His voice was becoming hopeful bordering on pleading by the end.

Neville's eyes widened. He didn't know what to suggest to Ron. Well, that wasn't strictly true. He knew exactly what Ron should do, but he didn't think it was what the redhead wanted to hear. "Oh, um... well, the thing is... you see..."

Neville was stumbling over his words and close to rambling, but fortunately, Ron interjected before he went to far, "Neville, I know you're a good friend to them, but I need the truth mate. What do you think I should do?"

Neville sighed and decided to give Ron what he asked for. "Have you thought that, maybe, you just need to... apologise?" He wondered.

Ron's face darkened slightly at this, but his next question was said with nothing more than curiosity, "Why should I? I mean, neither of them have and I doubt it'll be that simple anyway."

Neville shook his head and chose his words carefully, "Ron... Hermione wanted to apologise to you," Ron's face brightened again at this, but Neville ignored it and continued, "Harry won't let her though, not until you do anyway. He thinks you have... more to be sorry for."

Ron frowned. "Like what?" he asked, "It's her cat that ate Scabbers. I'll admit I've been a git about it, but I can't say I'm sorry while she still won't accept the facts."

"Ron, have you considered that... you might be wrong?" Neville queried, then quickly continued when Ron's frown turned angry, "I'm not saying you are, but if Scabbers _is_ still alive, then they don't have anything to be sorry for do they?"

Ron leaned back and ran a hand down his face, it was obvious that he _had _considered this and it hadn't helped. "In some ways, that might be worse Neville. I just hate the fact that, after so long trying to get her to admit she was wrong, I might have to instead."

"I... don't think it'll come to that," assured Neville, "You three have gotten through worse than this, but I think... the longer you leave it, the harder it'll get."

Ron had stopped scowling and instead was nodding thoughtfully. He turned to Neville. "You're right, the three of us need to talk about this, and soon," he sighed and stood up, "I should probably move before they get back. Thanks Neville, I really needed to get this off my chest."

"Um, you... you're welcome," stammered Neville, wide-eyed. He definitely hadn't been expecting a thank you.

Ron grinned and walked over to sit with Fred, George and Lee. Halfway there, he stopped, turned around and said, "For what it's worth, I don't blame you for what happened with Black." Then, he carried on.

Neville just stared in disbelief. It could be his imagination, but he may have just befriended the entire Golden Trio.

* * *

Remus Lupin was sat in his office, marking homework. Specifically, an essay that Professor Snape had set his fourth year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class.

He was unsurprised to learn that the topic was, once again, werewolves. He was well aware of what Severus was trying to do with these assignments, however there was nothing he could do about it. The man was well within his rights to set whatever homework he wished and Remus couldn't explain his reason without revealing his secret.

'_If it's a choice between complaints about homework and getting the sack, I'll choose the homework any day_' he reasoned silently.

He didn't really mind the Potions Master's attempts, he actually found it rather amusing that _Snivellus_ was still clinging to this old grudge. The werewolf mentally scolded himself for the use of such a nickname. He always attempted to treat the Professor with the respect he deserved, but old habits die hard.

He looked up when he heard someone knock on the door. "Come in," he called. The door opened to reveal a familiar third year Gryffindor with a head of bushy brown hair.

"Hermione," he greeted, "Is there something I can help you with?"

She nodded and moved closer to his desk. "Yes Professor, I... I'm worried about something," she said, looking decidedly nervous.

Taking in the uncertainty in her stance and voice, Remus came to the conclusion that it was important. He placed his quill on the desk before him. "Please, take a seat Hermione," he offered.

She smiled her thanks and sat down opposite him. He gave her a reassuring look before continuing, "Now, why don't you tell me what's troubling you."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm worried about facing my boggart," she said, as if she were revealing her darkest secret.

Remus frowned at this. It wasn't really what he'd been expecting, but he wasn't too shocked either. Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley had both come to him for help with their fears, as well. He also remembered the incident with Harry earlier today, she had seemed petrified at the idea of facing the boggart.

"I see... do you happen to know what shape it takes?" he asked. Hopefully she did, it would make everything much easier.

She got a thoughtful look on her face while she contemplated the question. "I'm not sure," she replied, "I... I think I have an idea of what it could be, but I... can't be certain."

He nodded at her answer. It was the same one most students gave him. Truthfully, you couldn't know for sure what your boggart would be until you saw it. He recalled the misconception he'd had about what Harry's fear would be.

"I am going to assume that, whatever you think it will be, you do not want the rest of the class to see it?"

She gave a tiny nod.

He returned the nod in understanding. "Well, how about you come back here sometime next week. I'll find another boggart and we'll give you a chance to face it away from prying eyes."

She looked up and nodded again eagerly. "Thank you Professor. I don't want to be a problem or anything, but... I am very worried about this."

Remus shook his head and smiled. "It really is no trouble Hermione, you're not the first to come to me about something like this."

Her eyes brightened significantly at this and she beamed in gratitude.

"I would suggest we meet earlier than that," he said to her, "But, unfortunately, I need time to find a new boggart and I have managed, once again, to fall ill at the most inconvenient of times."

Her eyes took on a strange look at that and flicked down for a second to the essays in front of him. He narrowed his eyes slightly. '_Does she know?_' he wondered, '_It makes sense, if anyone was going to figure it out it would be either her or Harry, maybe both_' For a moment, he considered asking her about it, but that thought was gone as quickly as it was conceived. If he brought it up and his suspicions were wrong, then he would find himself facing several very awkward questions.

"Thank you," she repeated, before standing up, "It means a lot to me to get this done."

"You're very welcome Hermione. Now run along, I'm sure you're friends are waiting for you."

She smiled for a final time, then left the room.

Remus sighed and leant back in his chair. Before he had accepted the post as DADA teacher, he had promised himself that he wouldn't show favouritism. However, he was finding it harder and harder to keep that promise. Two students in particular, were greatly testing his resolve.

It was strange how much they reminded him of James and Lily, yet managed to be completely different at the same time.

Harry was the spitting image of his father and his rivalry with Draco Malfoy was incredibly reminiscent of how James acted towards Severus. He had also heard of Harry's quite blatant disregard for the rules, though he had never witnessed it first hand. Then of course, there was the Quidditch skill.

Hermione was incredibly similar to Lily, mainly because of the natural intelligence they shared and the fact that they both came from a muggle family. They were also both fiercely loyal to their friends (He still remembered how Lily stuck up for Severus, even when he called her a mudblood).

However, Harry had inherited none of his father's arrogance and possessed a determination that James couldn't even hope to achieve. Hermione, for all her parallels with Harry's mother, seemed to have no problem breaking rules if she thought it was the right thing to do. He couldn't recall a single time Lily had broken a rule or lied to a teacher.

The most startling difference was the bond Harry and Hermione seemed to share. James and Lily had been at odds with each other from the moment they stepped off the train in first year and that hadn't ended until their seventh, but Harry and Hermione seemed like they'd been friends for their whole life. They shared something very intense, something that Harry's parents never had with each other. It was quite astounding to observe how deep the connection seemed to be. Remus had truly never seen anything like it.

All in all, both Harry and Hermione were close enough to his old friends to feel familiar, but different enough to be their own person. It was a rather odd situation for the werewolf.

* * *

When Hermione returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, she found that several students seemed to be congregating around the notice board. Instead of trying in vain to see what everyone was so interested in, Hermione made her way to where Harry was sat in the corner.

"Hey Hermione," he greeted her, "How did it go?"

"Professor Lupin's going to give me a chance to practice in private next week," she said, dropping her bag and sitting down next to him.

"That's great," he said, grinning at her, "Just as long as you don't overdo it. You've got enough stress as it is."

"Harry, your concern really is touching, but you are starting to sound like my mother," she said, smiling along with him. In truth, his concern made that warm feeling bubble up again, but she ignored it again.

"Yeah, that's never a good sign," he agreed.

"What's everyone looking at over there?" she asked curiously, peering at the throng of people she had noticed before.

Harry frowned and took a moment to answer. "There's, um..." he started, "There's another Hogsmeade trip this weekend."

Her head whipped back around to face him and she saw the look in his eyes. "You're not thinking of going are you Harry?"

The sheepish expression that covered his face was more than enough to convince her. "Oh Harry, you can't," she said, "You can't honestly think it's worth the risk after what happened to Ron." He still looked uncertain, but before he could answer she continued, "If you're worried about being stuck here on you're own then don't be. Neville can't go, neither can Luna."

"What about you?" he asked.

She frowned at him, "What about me?"

"Who are you going to go with. Obviously it won't be Ron and I doubt you'll want to spend the day shopping with Parvati or Lavender. You can't go with Neville or me, so who are you going to go with?"

She looked at the ground and bit her lip. She hadn't even thought about that. "I... don't know," she admitted, "I guess I could go on my own or stay behind with you, I mean I've got loads of work to do any-"

"No."

She looked up at his one word interruption and found him wearing a familiarly determined look on his face. "No?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he repeated, his emerald eyes still holding that look, "I'm not letting you stay in and do work. I don't care if I sound like your mother, you need a chance to get out and do something fun, before you work yourself to death."

She wanted to retort, but she couldn't. She looked into the intensity of his gaze and understood that there was no point arguing with this. That didn't stop her from giving it one last attempt.

"I still don't think you should risk it Harry. I'm not worth that."

"Yes you are Hermione," he told her, then decided to take a different tactic, "Look, if it makes you feel any better then I'll wear the cloak. Actually, I probably would have done that anyway, best not to take too many chances."

She thought about that for a minute. It seemed like an okay plan, there was nothing to suggest that Black could see through invisibility cloaks. She could see that some of his intense look had been replaced with one of pleading. She knew that he desperately wanted to get out of the castle and, despite her claims, she did as well.

Sighing in resignation, she looked him straight in the eye and said, "Okay."

* * *

**A/N: **_Yay, more Lupin! I like Lupin. I am curious to know what people think about the insight he offered about Harry and Hermione, as well as his character in general. Also, I'd love feedback on the Ron/Neville interaction, since it's a bit different to what I normally see in fanfiction. Anyway, thanks for reading and I will see you next time, good readers._


	10. Chapter 10: What Just Happened

**A/N: **_Hello good readers! I have returned to bring you the prologue (and aftermath) to the Hogsmeade trip. Don't worry, that will make sense to you later, or I hope it will. This is the shortest chapter I have written so far, but it is mainly an intro to the next one. Also, we get a introduction to a certain greasy haired potions professor that we all know and love/hate. Please, don't let me keep you, enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 10: What Just Happened**

On Saturday morning, Harry packed the Invisibility Cloak in his bag, slipped the Marauder's Map in his pocket and went down to breakfast with everyone else. Hermione continuously gave him worried looks and he was sure he spotted Ron throwing glances at the two of them every so often.

When everyone else gathered in the Entrance Hall ready to go to Hogsmeade, he and Hermione made sure to say goodbye to each other louder than was really necessary. Harry then made his way up the marble staircase, while Hermione exited through the front doors.

He swiftly made his way to the third floor, pulling the old sheet of parchment out of his pocket as he went. He ducked behind the One-Eyed Witch and smoothed the map out in front of him. To his alarm, a tiny dot labelled _Neville Longbottom_ was moving towards him.

Acting fast, he drew his wand and tapped the statue, muttering, "_Dissendium._" He threw his bag into the newly opened passage, but before he could enter, he noticed on the map that Neville was right round the corner.

Biting back a curse, he sealed the entrance again, pocketed the map and bent down, pretending to tie his shoes.

"Harry!" panted Neville, he'd obviously been in a hurry, "I was hoping to catch up to you. You're not going to Hogsmeade either are you?"

"Um, no I was just heading to..." Harry cast his mind about for a good enough lie, "The Library."

'_The Library_' he wondered, '_Merlin, Hermione really is rubbing off on me_'

"The Library? Oh, that reminds me! Have you done that review for Lupin yet?" asked Neville.

"No," lied Harry (He and Hermione had finished it the day it was set), "That's why I was going to the Library."

"Great! We can do it together, I still don't really understand why Redcaps..." he cut off abruptly with an audible gulp, his eyes fixed on a point just behind Harry.

Harry turned and found himself face-to-face with their least favourite teacher.

"Potter?" Snape spat, "Longbottom? What are you doing here?" His black eyes flicked to the area around them, lingering slightly on the statue of the One-Eyed Witch. "An odd place to meet," he commented, his eyes finally settling on Harry.

"We weren't_ meeting_ here," said Harry staring defiantly back at Snape, "We just... _met_ here."

"Indeed?" said Snape, "You do have a habit of turning up in the most unexpected places Potter... and you are rarely there for no reason."

"Is there something special about this place, Professor?" asked Harry, feigning ignorance. He had a sinking feeling that Snape knew _exactly_ what was special about this place.

The potions master's eyes narrowed so slightly you could barely notice they had at all, "You tell me Potter. Why exactly did you... _meet_ here?"

Harry's expression remained neutral, "I was on my way to the Library."

Snape continued to bore into him with his eyes, "Then perhaps you should continue _on your way_, instead of wasting my time here."

Harry nodded stiffly and led Neville off down the corridor. Just before they turned the corner, he looked back and saw Snape running a hand over the One-Eyed Witch's head, examining it closely.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when they were out of ear shot and turned to Neville, who was gaping at him in awe. "What?" asked Harry, perplexed by the other boy's look.

"How do you do that?" he asked, not bothering to conceal his amazement.

"Do what?" he said, frowning a little.

"Stand up to him like that. I... sometimes, he scares me so much I can't even speak properly."

Harry shook his head, trying to stifle a chuckle, "Neville it's not that I wasn't scared. I just didn't let him know that I was scared. If he thinks you're not scared, then he doesn't act as scary... does that make sense?"

It was obvious that it didn't really make sense to Neville, his face was scrunched up in confusion, "So... you were scared? Back there, I mean."

"Terrified," replied Harry truthfully, '_Terrified that he'd find out what that statue was and what I left inside it_'

Harry managed to lose Neville just outside the Library, by saying that he'd left his bag somewhere (A truth) and that he had to go back and get it for his homework (A lie).

He felt bad about leaving his friend alone, but he knew that Hermione would be worried sick if he kept her waiting any longer.

Pausing once to check on the map that the dot labelled _Severus Snape_ was safely back in his office, Harry hurried back to the passage and began his journey to the Honeydukes cellar.

* * *

Neville watched Harry leave for a second, wondering why his friend had been acting so strangely. In the end, he shook it off and entered the Library, resolving to find a table while he waited for Harry to return.

While he wandered the rows of books, he caught sight of a familiar blonde girl sat alone in the corner. Her dirty blond hair hung down her face and she had stuck her wand behind her ear for safe-keeping, while she bent over a long roll of parchment.

He jogged over to her and took a seat across from her. "Hullo Luna," he greeted.

She looked up at him in surprise, obviously she hadn't noticed him sit down. "Hello Neville," she replied, "Are you having any more luck with the trolls?"

"Er..." Neville began, not sure what to say. A few days ago he had confided in Luna about his fear of having to wait with a group of trolls whenever he wanted to enter Gryffindor tower. Her advice had been to sing to them. According to her, all trolls could be soothed by a talented tenor.

"Yeah," he lied, smiling, "It... really helped, thanks."

He hadn't even bothered to try. He should have known he would get something like that from her. He could have gone to his other friends, but he was worried that, if he'd asked them, Harry and Hermione would have told him to knock the trolls out with their own clubs. That seemed to be the way they did things.

She smiled brightly at his thanks and returned to her essay. Neville wasn't sure how to continue the conversation, so he decided to get started on his own work. He had just spread out a fresh piece of parchment and dipped his quill in ink, when Luna spoke again, "Where's Harry? He can't go to the village either, can he?" She didn't take her eyes of her work.

Neville shook his head, "No, he had to go back to Gryffindor Tower. He forgot his bag."

She frowned at the parchment and said simply, "That's odd."

Neville raised an eyebrow, partly wondering what she meant, partly wondering how she could call _anything _odd. "Why... why is it odd?" he asked.

"It's strange," she replied.

Neville frowned, fairly sure that she'd just given him the same statement, but replaced the word odd with strange. He opened his mouth to ask again, when she decided to continue. "Harry doesn't seem like he'd forget something like that," she said to the parchment, "Maybe he had another reason to leave, but didn't want to tell you what it was."

That answer puzzled Neville. True, Harry wasn't a forgetful person, but he also didn't think Harry would lie to him. Then, he remembered how shifty Harry had been acting when he'd found him on the third floor. He thought about the strange confrontation between Harry and Snape, how they both seemed to know something that he didn't. He thought about how Harry had practically fled from the Entrance Hall after Hermione had left.

"I don't think... but, why would he lie? Where would he need to be?"

Luna shrugged, "I don't know, I bet Hermione would though, she always seems to know where he is."

"She's in Hogsmeade..." he said, still unable to figure out where Harry could possibly want to run off to. He shook his head. "No, I'm sure he was just... in a rush and he... left his bag in the common room," he said firmly.

She just shrugged again and said, "You've known him longer than me." She finally decided to look up at him and address him properly, "While we wait for him, do you want to help me with my Herbology? Professor Sprout didn't seem to like my last answers very much. I still don't know what I did wrong, I put down everything I knew about Dirigible Plums..."

The two friends settled into relatively comfortable conversation and, for the most part, managed to forget about Harry's odd behaviour. There were more than a few awkward silences between them, mostly when Luna made one of her strange remarks that Neville didn't know how to respond to, or when Neville said something without thinking and tripped over his words to correct himself.

They had been sat together for a while and gotten a fair bit of work done, when Neville finally remembered the friend they'd been waiting for.

"I wonder where Harry got to?" He asked.

Luna looked up at his question and her eyes widened a little. She seemed to have forgotten about him as well.

"I'm going to go look for him," he decided and started packing up his work. He absently noticed that Luna was doing the same.

"I'm coming too," she answered his unspoken question, "Harry might have gotten into trouble. I hear that's usually the case with him."

Neville nodded in agreement, even he had picked up on the Trio's innate ability to break every rule ever written, every time they stepped outside.

They first searched Gryffindor Tower, but Neville emerged after a few moments and informed Luna that, not only was Harry not in there, but he hadn't been since breakfast.

They next decided to search the area the area where Neville had met Harry earlier. On their way to the Third Floor they found him, but he wasn't alone.

"Out of the way you two!" snapped Snape and the two instinctively jumped to the side.

The Head of Slytherin was striding towards the dungeons with a triumphant expression on his face and a solemn Harry trailing behind him. Neville opened his mouth to say something, but Harry gave the tiniest shake of his head and followed his captor silently.

Neville and Luna just watched the pair leave, before Neville made to go after them. Luna grabbed his arm to stop him. "No," she said, "We'll just make it worse. We should find Hermione, she'll probably know something."

Neville was going to point out again that Hermione was in Hogsmeade and couldn't possibly know what had happened, but the little Ravenclaw was already dragging him towards the Entrance Hall.

They had barely entered when the front doors burst open and a frantic Hermione rushed towards them, looking as if she'd just run a marathon.

"Hermione," said Neville, "We were just looking for..."

"Where's Harry?" she interrupted, her eyes filled with a fire that Neville recalled only too well. It was the same look she'd worn when she'd put him in a full-body-bind in first year.

"Um... well he was... I mean, we were..." he spluttered, quivering under her gaze.

"He's with Snape," explained Luna, looking quite calm considering the situation, "I think they were going to his office. You see..."

But Hermione had already pushed past them and was rushing towards the dungeons at breakneck pace.

Neville stared after her for a minute then turned to Luna, to see her looking just as bemused as he felt (Although, Luna always seemed to look bemused).

"What just happened?" he asked her.

* * *

**A/N: **_The next chapter will answer Neville's question and will follow Harry and Hermione through their time in Hogsmeade. I feel a bit bad for making Harry leave Neville like that, but it had to happen. I'd love to hear an opinion on the interaction between Harry and Snape. It's a bit different from the one in the books. Anyway, thank you for reading. Until next time, good readers._


	11. Chapter 11: Voice of Reason

**A/N: **_Hello good readers! So it's kind of fitting that my longest chapter yet comes directly after my shortest chapter yet. This one is very similar to what happens in the original text, but obviously Hermione's presence in place of Ron causes a few differences, even when she isn't around._

* * *

**Chapter 11: Voice of Reason**

Upon arriving beneath the sweet shop, Harry pulled the cloak over himself and wiped the map, before tentatively pushing the trapdoor open a crack and peering out into the dusty cellar. Satisfied that he was alone, he quietly exited the passage and closed the entrance.

He made his way through the shop as quickly as he could without drawing unwanted attention, then joined Hermione just outside.

"Hermione, it's me," he whispered in her ear. She spun around to look at him, her eyes somehow finding his invisible form.

"Harry. Where have you been?" she demanded in hushed tones, her voice laced with worry.

"Got held up," he told her, "Snape was hanging around..."

"Professor Snape? He doesn't know where you are does he?" she sounded even more worried by his admission.

Harry shook his head before he remembered that she couldn't see him, "No," he said, "I think he suspects I'm up to something, but Snape always thinks I'm up to something."

"Well you usually are..." said Hermione. She still didn't look convinced.

"Hermione, we'll be fine," he assured her, "Let's just forget about him and try to enjoy ourselves."

She looked ready to protest, but even without seeing him, she seemed to sense that it wasn't up for debate. She closed her mouth and nodded, then pulled a brightly coloured bag out of her pocket.

"Here," she offered, holding it out to him, "I got you some stuff from Honeydukes while I waited."

He thanked her and pocketed the sweets.

They set off up the High Street. Hermione kept asking where he was whenever he was silent for to long, thinking he'd wandered off somewhere.

They went to the Post Office first. Hermione pretended to check the price of an owl to her parents so that Harry could have a good look round. The owls sat hooting softly down at him, at least three hundred of them, from Great Greys, right down to tiny Scops owls that could have sat in the palm of his hand.

Hermione simply refused to enter Zonko's with him and Harry found himself missing Ron just a tiny bit. He was sure that the redhead would have been more than happy to enter the shop. From what Harry could see through the windows, there were jokes and tricks to fulfil even Fred and George's wildest dreams.

They were just about to continue past the joke shop, when the Weasley boy himself stepped out of the doorway in front of them.

Ron looked quite taken aback to bump into Hermione alone and the two of them just stood looking at each other for a second, before he muttered a quick, "Hello."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She obviously hadn't been expecting him to make any form of communication. "Hello," she replied, a bit stiffly.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat. He appeared to be having some sort of internal struggle. In the end he just said, "Um, right... see you," and continued walking past her.

Hermione and Harry stood watching him leave."What was that about?" she asked to thin air.

"Dunno," said Harry, equally confused by Ron's actions, "Come to think of it, Ron's been acting a bit strange lately."

She turned to where his voice had come from, "What do you mean?"

"I keep noticing him looking at us like... I don't know. It's almost like he wants to talk or something."

She frowned at this. Ron hadn't shown any signs of wanting to repair their friendship until now, but both she and Harry were willing to give it a chance. They wouldn't admit it, but things didn't quite feel the same without Ron's clueless attitude around.

The day was fine and breezy and neither of them felt like staying indoors, so they walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack. It stood a little way above the rest of the village and, even in daylight, was slightly creepy.

Hermione started to spout all the facts she knew about the house and the absurd rumours about it. She mentioned at least three times that it was the most haunted dwelling in Britain.

Harry, who was feeling hot from their climb, just sat on the fence and listened to her. He would never tell her, but he always enjoyed hearing her talk about something like this. It really showed how brilliant she was.

He was just considering taking the cloak off for a bit, to cool himself down, when they heard voices nearby. Someone was climbing towards the house from the other side of the hill. Moments later, Malfoy had appeared, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle.

"...should have an owl from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm... about how I couldn't use it for three months..." Malfoy sounded incredibly proud of himself, as though his lack of a usable limb had been a significant accomplishment on his part, "I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend himself... _There's no 'arm in 'im 'onest..._ that Hippogriff's as good as dead..."

Malfoy froze when he caught sight of Hermione. His face broke out into a malevolent grin.

"What are you doing Granger?" His eyes turned to the crumbling structure behind her, "In the market for a new home are we? I thought someone as stuck-up as you would look for better, but I suppose even this is better than living with the filth _you_ have for parents."

Hermione looked ready to hex Malfoy until even his mother couldn't recognise him, but Harry placed an invisible hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Let me deal with him."

The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harry crept silently around the three Slytherins, bent down and scooped up a large handful of mud.

"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Malfoy explained, oblivious to what was coming, "D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his Hippogriff's..."

_SPLAT!_

Malfoy's head jerked forwards as the mud hit him, his silver blond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.

"What the..." he demanded to the empty air, eyes darting around frantically.

Hermione was laughing so hard she had to hold onto the fence to keep from falling over. The three boys spun stupidly on the spot, trying to locate the mystery attacker.

"Who was that? Who did that?"

"Honestly you three," said Hermione, her laughter finally starting to die down, "Don't you read? If you did you'd know how haunted this place is."

Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. They seemed to understand that their muscles would be no use against ghosts.

Harry sneaked along the path, to where a particularly sloppy puddle yielded some foul-smelling, green sludge.

_SPLATTER!_

Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the spot, trying to rub it out of his small, dull eyes.

"It came from over there!" said Malfoy, gesturing wildly at a spot just to the left of Harry.

Crabbe blundered forwards, his long arms flailing out in front of him. Harry ducked out of his reach and lobbed a stick at his back. Harry could barely contain his laughter as the hulking Slytherin did an odd pirouette in mid-air.

Since Hermione was the only one he could see, it was her he made for, but Harry stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harry's cloak, tugging it down off his face.

There was a second of stunned silence as Harry and Malfoy stared at each other, then Malfoy started screaming. He turned and ran back towards the village, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

Harry pulled the cloak back up, but the damage was done.

"Harry!" gasped Hermione, her eyes wide with fear and staring at the point where he'd disappeared, "Harry, you have to get back to the castle. If Malfoy tells anyone... just go! Quickly!"

Harry didn't need telling twice. After a quick shout of goodbye to Hermione, he ran as fast as he could towards Hogsmeade.

On the way towards the village, his thoughts were running wild. Harry wondered if Malfoy would believe what he'd seen or if anyone would believe Malfoy. Nobody knew about his Invisibility Cloak. Harry got a horrible feeling, '_Nobody except Dumbledore_' he reminded himself, '_Dumbledore will know exactly what happened. If Malfoy goes to him..._' Harry put on a burst of speed.

Harry dove into the passage in the Honeyduke's cellar and tore off the cloak. Then, he ran. He ran flat out down the passageway, blood pumping in his ears. Malfoy would get back first, but how long would it take him to find a teacher?

Harry hoped that Neville would have the sense to cover for him. He felt immensely foolish and guilty for not telling his friend where he was really going.

Hermione would think of something. He knew he could always count on her, but would she be able to get back fast enough.

Harry was panting by the time he reached the end of the passage. He looked down at his cloak. He knew that he'd have to leave it here, it would be too much of a giveaway if he was caught with it.

Stuffing the silvery material into a shadowy corner, Harry scrambled up the slide, his sweaty hands slipping on the walls of the chute.

He pulled himself free of the statue and didn't wait to seal it. Just as well, because an instant later...

"Potter!"

Harry turned. Snape was striding towards him, a look of suppressed triumph plastered all over his face. "So," he said, leaving the word hanging dangerously. Harry was all too aware of his sweaty face, heavy breathing and muddy hands (which he promptly stuck in his pockets).

"Come with me," said Snape.

Harry followed, trying desperately to wipe his hands clean on the inside of his robes. The journey to Snape's office passed mainly in silence, save for the point where the Professor shouted at a pair of students who were in his way.

Harry felt the colour leave his face as he recognised Neville and Luna. His friends looked utterly bewildered and Neville opened his mouth to ask something, but Harry shook his head a fraction, hoping that Snape wouldn't notice.

They continued to the dungeons, Harry still trying to collect his thoughts and control his breathing. Snape swung open the door to his office and said, "In."

Harry entered and looked around. The room was almost exactly the same as his first visit, however it looked like Snape had acquired a few more slimy things in jars since then, all of which were adding to Harry's sense of foreboding.

"Sit," said Snape shortly.

Harry sat. Snape did not.

"So," he repeated, "Mr Malfoy has just been to me with a very strange story Potter."

Harry remained quiet, attempting to appear mildly interested.

"He tells me he was by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into your friend Granger... apparently alone."

Still, Harry refused to speak.

"Mr Malfoy says that he was standing talking to Granger, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think this could have happened?"

Harry tried to look surprised and confused. "I don't know Professor," he said evenly.

Snape looked like he was trying to bore into Harry with his eyes. Harry tried not to blink.

"Mr Malfoy then saw a rather... extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been?"

"No," replied Harry, in a tone that he hoped was innocently curious.

"It was your head, Potter. Floating in mid-air."

The silence that followed this statement seemed to last an eternity.

"Maybe he should see Madam Pomfrey," said Harry, "If he's seeing..."

"What was your head doing in Hogsmeade Potter?" Snape cut in, "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to enter Hogsmeade."

"I know that," said Harry, "It sounds like Malfoy is having hallucin-"

"Malfoy is not having hallucinations," hissed Snape, leaning in so that their faces were a foot apart. Harry kept his gaze locked with the Professor's, not willing to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

"If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you," deduced Snape.

Harry managed to keep himself from gulping. "I already told you earlier, Professor. I was in the Library..."

"Can anyone confirm that?" interrupted Snape, his lips curling into a smile at Harry's lack of answer.

"While we are talking about our earlier meeting, Potter, I find myself curious about its location." It was all Harry could do not to blink at this. "If I am not mistaken, it is the same place I found you after the... event Mr Malfoy witnessed."

Harry was finding it increasingly harder to keep from showing his nerves.

"I will ask you again Potter, what is so special about that place?"

Harry answered with silence once again.

"So," said Snape, for the third time, "Everyone from the Minister for Magic downwards has been trying to keep the famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black, but the famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let ordinary people worry about his safety, the famous Harry Potter goes where he wishes, with no fear of any... consequences."

Harry knew that Snape was trying to provoke him into telling the truth. He wasn't going to give it, Snape had no proof... yet.

"I hear many people telling you how much you resemble your father. I find it is times like these where that can be seen the most," Snape's eyes were glinting dangerously, "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Qudditch pitch and the adoration of a select few, made him think he was a cut above the rest of us. Strutting about with his _friends_ and followers like he owned the place. Yes, you truly are your father's son, Potter."

Harry had heard many people tell him something similar, but from Snape it was different. He noticed that Snape had managed to insult, not only Harry, but his friends, his Father and his Father's friends. He felt anger beginning to bubble up in his chest, but a soothing voice reached him from the back of his mind, '_You can't let him goad you Harry. You'll just be giving him what he wants_' The voice sounded strangely like Hermione.

Snape was talking again, "He didn't set much store by the rules either. Another trait you share. Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup winners. His head was so swollen... but nobody else could see it. I can't recall him ever doing _anything_ to earn even half the praise people seemed to shower him with."

"He saved your life!" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

Snape's eyes widened by the smallest fraction, "What?"

"Dumbledore told me," said Harry firmly, "If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't even be here. I think that's enough to _earn some praise!_" The inner Hermione voice was scolding him for letting his rage get the better of him. He took a deep breath and tried to cool off, but Snape wasn't going to let that slide.

The Professor's skin had gone the colour of sour milk. "And did the Headmaster tell you the circumstances in which this occurred? Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?"

Harry closed his eyes for a second, half because Snape was right and he didn't know exactly what had happened, half because he was trying to focus on that tiny voice of reason.

"I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter. Have you been imagining some glorious act of heroism?"

Harry's brow twitched. Truly, whenever he had thought about his father saving Snape, he had always pictured a scenario similar to the way he and Ron had saved Hermione from the Troll.

"Let me correct you then, your saintly father and his friends played a highly _amusing_ joke on me that would have resulted in my death, had your father not gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had the joke succeeded, he would have been expelled."

'_Don't listen to him Harry_' said the voice, '_He's just trying to make you angry. You can't let him win_' The voice continued to bank the flames of his anger, but Harry wasn't sure if this was because he was listening to what was said, or because of its resemblance to Hermione.

Snape seemed to realise he wouldn't be able to force another outburst out of Harry and switched topics sharply. "Turn out your pockets Potter," he said smoothly.

Harry didn't move and this time he wasn't able to suppress a quiet gulp.

"Turn out your pockets or we go straight to the Headmaster!" Snape repeated forcefully.

Harry silently removed the bag of sweets Hermione had bought him and the Marauder's map. Snape picked up the Honeydukes bag.

"Ron and Hermione gave them to me," he lied quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly, "They... got them from Hogsmeade last time."

"Indeed? And you held onto them for all this time instead of, say, eating them. How very... touching."

Snape moved on to map, "And what is this?"

Harry fought hard to keep his face blank. "A spare bit of parchment," he shrugged.

Snape's eyes lifted from the map to Harry, "Surely you do not need such an _old _piece of parchment? Why don't I just... throw this away?" His hand drifted towards the fire.

"No!" exclaimed Harry.

"So!" said Snape, using what seemed to be his new favourite word, "Is this another treasured gift from your friends? Or perhaps... something else? A letter, written in invisible ink? Instructions on how to reach Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?"

Harry blinked. Snape's eyes burned with triumphant fire.

"Let me see, let me see..." he muttered, smoothing the map out on his desk. He drew his wand and touched the parchment, "Reveal you secrets..." The parchment remained blank.

"Show yourself!" demanded Snape, tapping the map sharply. Still, nothing appeared.

"Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" He hit the map hard with his wand.

As though an invisible hand was drawing a quill across it, words began to appear on the page...

_Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape and implores him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's businesses._

Snape froze. Harry glanced between him and the map fearfully. The man's eyes were filled with disbelief. But the map wasn't done yet...

_Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git._

Snape's eyes were beginning to gleam with danger and flicked up for the briefest of moments to look at Harry after this message. But there was more...

_Mr Padfoot would like to offer his astonishment that an idiot such as Severus Snape ever became a Professor._

Harry was mortified and he wordlessly begged the map to stop. It obliged, but only after having the final word...

_Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape a good day and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball._

Harry waited for the blow to fall.

"So..." Snape really seemed to like that word, "We'll see about this..."

He strode over to his fire, seized a fistful of glittering powder from a jar nearby and threw it into the flames.

"Lupin!" he called, "I want a word!"

Harry didn't understand what was going on, but at this point, he felt lucky to still be breathing. He watched as Professor Lupin emerged from the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby robes.

"You called Severus?" asked Lupin mildly, his eyes flicking over to Harry for a second.

"I certainly did," said Snape, face contorted with fury, "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this."

Lupin stared at the parchment, which still held the words of Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. An odd expression crossed his face. It was almost like recognition, as if the messages brought back old memories.

"Well?" prompted Snape.

Lupin continued to stare at the map, his emotions more closed now. Harry got the impression he was doing some very quick thinking.

"_Well_?" repeated Snape, "This is plainly filled with Dark Magic and is surely in your... area of expertise. Where do you imagine Potter acquired such an item?"

Lupin gave Harry a quick look which warned him not to interrupt, then turned to Snape, "Filled with Dark Magic? Are you sure, Severus? It merely seems to be a parchment designed to insult anyone who attempts to read it. Childish, yes, but surely not dangerous. I presume Harry got it in a joke shop..."

"Indeed?" asked Snape, his jaw rigid, "Do you not believe it more likely that he got it directly from _the manufacturers?"_

Harry didn't have a clue what Snape was on about and Lupin didn't seem to either, "You mean from one of these who signed it? Mr Wormtail or the others? Harry, do you know any of these men?"

"No," said Harry, being completely honest for the first time in a while.

"You see Severus. I suspect it's a Zonko's product..."

"Well," said Snape, who was obviously not satisfied with Lupin's answer, "That still raises the question as to how Potter obtained this. After all, he is not _permitted_ to enter Hogsmeade..."

Lupin was about to answer, but before he could, there was a knock on the door.

* * *

Hermione had raced back to Hogwarts as fast as her feet would carry her. She had only stopped briefly in the Entrance Hall to get Harry's whereabouts out of Neville and Luna, before she was continuing her mad rush to the dungeons.

She was fairly sure she had reached the room not long after Harry entered with Snape, but she didn't enter straight away. Her reason for this was threefold...

First, it would look incredibly suspicious if she burst in, clutching a stitch in her side, and proclaimed Harry innocent. Especially so soon after the incident.

Second, she needed time to work out exactly how to get Harry out of trouble, without raising suspicions further.

Third, she still wasn't sure what she would be dealing with when she walked through that door.

So, she waited just outside and strained her ears to listen to what was being said. She spent most of the time praying for Harry to keep a lid on his temper and he seemed to manage it, for the most part, though it was a close one when the talk turned to his father.

There was a moment when the voices stopped after Snape attempted to access the Marauder's Map and Hermione had a horrible feeling that Harry's secret had been discovered. She almost burst through the door right at that moment, but stopped herself when she heard a new voice join the conversation.

Now, satisfied that she had heard enough and had a good enough plan, Hermione raised her hand and knocked four times.

All noise ceased within. After a moment the voice of Professor Snape rang out, "Enter!"

Hermione carefully pushed open the door and took in the scene before her. She had gathered the basics of what was happening from what she'd heard outside, but now she could feel the undeniable tension in the room.

Every face was turned to her. Snape's was unreadable, while Lupin's wore a hint of surprise. Harry, on the other hand, was looking at her with a look she could read only too well. It was a look that said, '_Where have you been?_'

"Granger? Can we help you?" asked Snape. It was clear from his tone that he didn't enjoy the interruption she had provided.

"Um, sorry Professors, but I was worried about Harry," she made herself look uncertain while she spoke, "I heard about what Malfoy said... and I wanted to make sure he was all right."

Snape's eyes narrowed, but Lupin looked puzzled. "I do believe I'm missing something here," he said, "What exactly does Mr Malfoy have to do with this?"

Snape did not remove his gaze from Hermione, but said, "Mr Malfoy informed me that he had... spotted Potter, whilst in Hogsmeade, that is why I asked him to empty his pockets."

"Ah," said Lupin. This was obviously news to him, not very good news by the looks of things either, "I see, well, I'm afraid you'll have to wait outside Hermione, there is a matter that Severus and I still need to discuss with Harry."

Hermione pretended to ignore him and stare at the sheet of parchment in his hand. She turned to Harry and gave him a disapproving look, "Harry, is that the Joke-Letter that Ron got you from Zonko's?" she asked, looking directly into his eyes. '_Please get what I'm doing_' she thought pleadingly, '_Please get it. Please get it._'

He got it.

His eyes turned to the ground and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking to everyone like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh Harry," she said, shaking her head and dropping into her_ I told you so _voice "I told you it would get you into trouble. Why don't you listen to me?"

"I thought it was funny," he mumbled to the floor. She held back a grin, incredibly relieved that he had cottoned on to what she was doing.

Snape looked livid at the exchange and Lupin looked slightly amused.

"Well," said the werewolf, "I believe that answers your question Severus. I'll take this..." he folded and pocketed the map, before turning to the two students, "Harry, Hermione, come with me, I need a word with you about your Vampire Essays. Excuse us, Severus."

Harry and Hermione both avoided looking at Snape while they left and nobody spoke until they were back in the Entrance Hall.

"Professor, I..." started Harry.

"I don't want to hear explanations," said Lupin. He glanced around at the empty hall before continuing. He gave them a serious look, "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map," he gave in answer to their shocked looks, "Your little trick was clever and certainly fooled Severus, but I happen to know how this map works. I don't know how it fell into your possession. I am however, _astounded _that neither of you thought to hand it in. Especially after what happened the last time someone left information about the castle lying around. I'm afraid I can't let you have it back Harry."

Hermione was feeling terrible. Not only because of the disappointment that was evident in Lupin's voice or the fact that she'd been caught telling a blatant lie to a teacher. She also felt terrible for Harry. She knew that there was no chance for him to enter the village now. She had considered revealing the map or the One-Eyed Witch passageway to a member of staff after what happened to Ron, but had kept quiet for Harry's sake.

She turned to him, expecting to see a crushed look on his face. Instead, she saw one of curiosity and... acceptance.

"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?" he asked Lupin.

"Because..." the teacher said delicately, "Because the mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of the school. They'd think it was extremely entertaining."

"Do you know them?" asked Hermione, shocked that her teacher would associate with people who think luring a thirteen year old boy into danger was funny.

"We've met," said Lupin shortly. He rounded on Harry, "Don't expect me to cover for you again, Harry. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously, but I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive. A poor way to repay them, gambling their sacrifices for a bag of sweets."

He walked away, leaving Hermione feeling even worse than she was earlier. She looked at Harry and saw that he seemed just as bad, if not worse.

Neither of them spoke for a while as they made their way back towards Gryffindor Tower. Then Harry decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry," he said and she could hear the regret in his voice, "I should have listened to you and stayed in the castle. I mean, I wanted you to get out and enjoy yourself, not have to come chasing after me."

She shook her head at his apology, "Harry, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have let you come. Lupin's right, anything could have happened." He still didn't look convinced, so she reached out a took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He looked down at her. "And anyway," she said, "I still enjoyed myself."

He frowned, "Really?"

"Really," she said, "Being your best friend, I've sort of gotten used to this kind of stuff happening."

That brought a grin out of him, "Things like this do seem to happen a lot around us don't they?" he sighed, "You're right. It was worth it to see Malfoy's face."

They both laughed at that memory and the tension between them evaporated. They made their way to Gryffindor Tower and Harry gave the password. Upon entering, they found Ron moving towards them at a brisk pace.

"What do you want?" asked Harry tersely. No matter how much Harry and Hermione wanted to bridge this gap, Ron had to make the first move.

Ron glanced between them, then held out an envelope. "Hedwig came earlier with a letter for you. I thought you'd want it."

Hermione frowned and took the letter, tearing it open.

"Why didn't she bring it at breakfast?" Harry was asking.

"I dunno. She's your owl," came Ron's short reply.

Hermione wasn't listening though. She had already finished reading the short letter and could feel tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hermione?" She looked up at the sound of Harry saying her name. He was looking at her worriedly, "What does it say?"

She felt numb and her reply came out in a disbelieving voice, "Hagrid lost his case... Buckbeak is going to be executed."

* * *

**A/N: **_So, yeah not a lot of difference from canon, but enough to be noticeable, I hope. I do hope I did the scene between Harry and Snape justice. It's one of my favourite scenes from PoA. If anyone feels disappointed that Harry didn't lash out at Snape like he did in canon, don't worry, I haven't cut this outburst. Just moved it. The Whovian inside me nearly called this chapter "_She Knocked Four Times_", but the Harmonian in me managed to overpower the urge. Anyway, please let me know what you think and I will see you next time, good readers._


	12. Chapter 12: The Least I Can Do

**A/N: **_Hello good readers!_

_I just want to remind everyone of one of my fundamental principles when writing. No Bashing. This is NOT a Ron bashing fic. I hate that so many H/Hr shippers believe they need to bash characters (usually Ron, Ginny, Molly or Dumbledore) in order to make the Harmony happen. Harmony is a beautiful and natural ship, but it is constantly tainted in fanfiction by the loss of brilliant friendships (commonly the Golden Trio itself) and sudden changes in character (Harry and Hermione often becoming much less forgiving and more vengeful). It's one of the reasons why some Romione and Hinny shippers assume that all Harmonians hate Weasleys. Sorry about that little rant, but I needed to get that off my chest and it's especially relevant in this chapter. _

_On a side note, this story has cleared 200 favourites, 400 followers, 100 reviews and 35.5k views, so a big thank you to everyone reading this. I never expected my story to provoke such a response from people. Okay, I'll end this A/N now, before it gets to long (bit late for that I think). _

_Please, enjoy the story!_

* * *

**Chapter 12: The Least I Can Do**

When the weekend began that morning, Harry had felt many things. Excitement and eagerness to spend the day in Hogsmeade with Hermione were the most prominent. These emotions had only grown during the time they had spent in the village and in the act of humiliating Malfoy.

Then, his hopes of a normal, carefree day had been dashed by his discovery and the resultant confrontation with Snape. He had been feeling pretty terrible at that point and it had worsened after the lecture from Lupin. By the time they had reached the portrait hole, he had been sure the day couldn't get any worse.

He had been wrong.

He felt as though he had climbed out of a freezing lake, only to have someone tip cold water over his head, just as he was beginning to get dry. He stared into Hermione's eyes and tried to will the words back into her mouth.

Buckbeak wasn't going to die. He couldn't, not after all the work they had done to keep him alive.

Harry had been stood looking at Hermione for at least four seconds before the true weight of her words crashed down on him. He shook his head, surely mirroring the disbelief he saw on her face with his expression.

Hermione's eyes were shining with unshed tears and she held the letter out to him. "Here... read it," she said.

Harry took the note and did so. It was coated with huge, blotchy tear-stains, but the writing was still legible.

_Dear Harry and Hermione,_

_We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Excecution date to be fixed._

_Beaky has enjoyed London. Pass my thanks on those friends of yours. I won't forget the help you all gave us._

_Hagrid._

"They can't do this," said Harry, "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

"Malfoy's dad probably frightened the committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes, "You know what he's like and Hagrid said they're a bunch of doddery old fools. They'd have been easily scared."

Harry looked back at the parchment in his hand, hoping delusionally, to find something there that could help them.

"There'll be an appeal," he remembered, "There's always an appeal."

"Of course there will," said Hermione, shaking her head sadly, "Only I can't see any hope... nothing will have changed."

"Yeah it will," said a fierce voice to their right.

Harry turned to Ron at his words and gave him a questioning look. "Is that so?" he asked.

Ron moved his eyes to Harry's and Harry saw a determination there that he recognised. Ron had worn a similar look when he sacrificed himself in the giant chess game.

"Yeah," he said, "Because you two won't have to do all the work alone this time. I'll help."

Harry thought it was not the best time to mention that they already had help from Neville and Luna. He turned to Hermione. She looked shocked by Ron's offer. Harry understood that completely.

"You'll help?" she asked incredulously.

Ron nodded vigorously. "Of course," he said in that same, fierce voice, "I promised Hagrid I'd help last time and I didn't. The least I can do is make sure Buckbeak lives through this."

Hermione looked ready to fling herself at Ron, but Harry placed an arm on her shoulders, holding her back. She looked up at him curiously, but he gave her a glance that said, '_In a minute_'.

Ron noticed the silent exchange and looked between the pair of them, his face now more confused than determined.

"Is there anything else you feel you should say Ron?" asked Harry.

Ron looked into the intensity of his green eyes for a second without quivering, then sighed, bowing his head a little.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, but they both heard him.

Harry felt Hermione start to move, but tightened his hold slightly to say, '_Not Yet_'.

"What for?" prompted Harry.

Ron raised his eyes again. "For... for acting like an idiot," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you Harry. You were right, I was handling Scabbers wrong and... I'm sorry for how I've been acting towards you Hermione. Not just for this, but before now as well. I guess... I'm sorry for... for being a right git"

Hermione pulled a bit harder against Harry's hold, but this time, he let her go and she flung her arms around Ron's neck with a cry of, "Oh, Ron."

Ron staggered a little from the hug and looked quite terrified. It was obvious he had no idea how to properly react to this and before he could, Hermione had pulled back to speak to him.

"Ron... I'm sorry too," she said, "About Scabbers. Really, I am."

"Oh," said Ron, he didn't look like he'd expected his apology to be accepted, let alone returned, although he did look thoroughly relieved that Hermione had let go of him, "Well... he was old... and a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

Harry broke into a grin at the sight of his two friends breaking their feud. He decided now was a good time to move forward.

"You know, you'll always be an idiot Ron," he said, clapping his mate on the back, "But we wouldn't have you any other way."

"Gee, thanks," replied Ron, now looking half-dazed, half-pleased.

Hermione just shook her head again and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "_Boys..._"

* * *

The newest safety measures imposed on students made it impossible for Harry, Ron and Hermione to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him would be during Care of Magical Creatures lessons next week.

Not bothering to wait until then, they had decided to gather with Neville and Luna in the Library on Sunday, to begin working on the appeal. The five of them were sat around a table strewn with bits of parchment and thick tomes with titles like _The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology_ and _Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality._

Harry and Hermione sat next to each other on one side of the desk, almost shoulder-to-shoulder as they both bent over a particularly large book. On their left side was Neville, who was scribbling whatever they found onto a long, trailing roll of parchment that hung off the desk in front of him. To the other side sat Luna, who had several smaller and stranger books surrounding her. She switched her attention from one book to the other seemingly at random. Ron sat across from them and had at least five enormous texts before him, which he was so absorbed in his nose nearly touched the pages.

For a while the only sounds were the scratching of Neville's quill, the rustle of turning pages and the quiet voices in which someone put forth an idea.

"What about this?" said Luna, without raising her eyes from her book.

Hermione looked up at her from the the passage she had been studying, "What is it?" she asked.

"Something about a Thestral that was baited into attacking a witch," she replied, "It lost its case, but managed to get off with an appeal."

Ron had looked up too now and frowned at her. "We're looking for stuff about Hippogriffs, not... whatever a Thestral is," he said bluntly, before returning to the book.

Harry peered over at the bit Luna had been reading. "It seems pretty similar to our situation actually. The thing even looks similar to a Hippogriff."

Hermione turned to him and said, "That doesn't really mean anything Harry. Just because something _looks_ the same, doesn't mean it will _act_ the same."

"Still, there might be something useful there," Harry shrugged.

"Let me know if you find something then," said Neville.

The group went back into a comfortable silence for a minute, before Ron spoke up again. "What _is_ a Thestral?" he asked, looking very curious.

It was Neville who answered, "They're sort of like... big horses, but with wings. Not bird wings like a Hippogriff, more like... a bat's wings."

"There are some here at the castle," said Luna matter-of-factly, "I go down to feed them sometimes. They're really nice and quite interesting too."

Hermione met Harry's eyes and they silently agreed that anything Luna liked would be _interesting_, to say the least.

"Don't you get cold, wandering the grounds?" asked Neville, "I mean... you don't seem to wear shoes a lot, so..." He trailed off, appearing to have lost his original point.

"I would wear shoes more often," said Luna, "But, people like to hide my things. I don't really mind, it's fun to look for them, but it does get a bit cold, yes." She spoke of the other students' behaviour as if it was the most acceptable thing in the world.

Hermione felt a rush of sympathy for the odd little girl. She knew what it was like to be singled out because you were different. Ron and Neville were looking at her with pity, but Harry had a darker look in his eyes.

"Why do they do that?" asked Harry, a hint of anger in his tone. Hermione looked at him, realising that he too probably knew how Luna felt.

"I think it's maybe because I'm a bit different," said Luna, with the tone one would use when talking about the weather, "Some people call me Loony Lovegood, actually."

Hermione noticed Neville and Ron wince a bit a the name. Clearly they were both guilty of using it at least once.

"That's no reason for them to take your things," said Harry firmly.

Luna looked up at him with bright and surprised eyes. "That's really nice of you to say," she said, in her dreamy voice.

Hermione wasn't sure why, but she didn't like the sparkle in Luna's eyes when she looked at Harry, or the odd tone she used when she spoke to him. The bushy-haired girl subconsciously shifted in her seat to sit a bit closer to her best friend.

* * *

Harry slept badly that night.

He couldn't get the recurring image of Buckbeak's execution out of his head. His dream started with him running towards Hagrid's house after oversleeping and being late for the appeal. He arrived at the pumpkin patch just in time to hear the axe falling on the Hippogriff's neck. He heard a low growl and turned to see a great shaggy black dog looking at him with hungry yellow eyes. The Grim pounced at him and he fell backwards. Suddenly, he was falling through the air, wind rushing past his face as he fell towards the earth. His mother's screams were ringing in his ears...

He woke with a start.

It was a few seconds before he remembered that Buckbeak was still alive and well and that he was safe in his bed, not falling through the air. He was feeling very thirsty. As quietly as he could, Harry got out of his four-poster and went to pour himself some water from the jug on the windowsill.

He looked outside as he sipped his water and calmed his breathing. The grounds were still and quiet. The Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent looking. He idly recognised the weather as perfect Quidditch conditions.

Harry set his goblet down and was about to turn back to his bed, when something caught his eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the lawn.

He hurriedly snatched up his glasses and shoved them on his face. '_Not the Grim_' Harry begged desperately, '_Please not now. Not with everything else_'.

He peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, he spotted it. It wasn't the Grim at all, it was a cat. Harry clutched the ledge in relief as he noticed the bottle-brush tail. It was only Crookshanks...

Or was it only Crookshanks? Harry squinted, pressing his nose against the glass. He was sure he could see something else.

The next moment, it emerged. A gigantic black dog, the same one from Harry's dream, was moving stealthily across the grass. Crookshanks was trotting at its side.

Harry stared. '_What does that mean?_' he wondered, '_If Crookshanks can see it too, then how is it an omen of my death?_'

Harry looked over at the bed next to his. Waking his friend in the middle of the night, just after they had fixed things between them, didn't seem like the best idea, but Harry needed to know.

"Ron!" he hissed, "Ron wake up!"

"Huh?" muttered the redhead sleepily, his groggy eyes fluttering open.

"I need you to tell me if you can see something!" Harry explained quickly.

"S'all dark Harry," Ron grumbled thickly, "What're you on about?"

"Down here..." said Harry, moving back to the window.

Crookshanks and the dog had vanished. Harry climbed onto the windowsill to look right down into the shadows of the castle.

A loud snore told him that Ron had returned to sleep.

Harry couldn't see them anywhere. He was starting to wonder if he should go back to bed, when he was forced to throw his arm up over his eyes.

A bright light had appeared outside the window in the spot Harry had been staring at. Harry's eyes slowly adjusted eyes to the sudden glow and he noticed a dark figure holding a lit wand aloft.

The person was facing away from the castle, so Harry couldn't see their face. They cast the light over the grass, as if searching for something. They didn't seem to find it, because they paused for one more moment, then turned to walk back to the castle.

Harry's eyes widened as the mystery figure's face was illuminated.

It was Lupin.

* * *

Remus was sat at his desk. It was late at night and most in Hogwarts had already turned in, but the werewolf had something he wanted to do. He had waited this long to ensure that he would not be disturbed while he examined it.

Taking a sip of tea, he pulled the old sheet of parchment from his pocket and spread it out across his desk. He drew his wand, pointed it at the blank page and repeated the words he had spoken so many times while a student here.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._"

Lines of ink instantly began to criss-cross the page from the point he had touched. A grin broke his face as the map formed before him.

He touched it lightly with his fingertips. Seeing it again brought back so many memories. His friends, the marauders. All the times they shared in the Shrieking Shack. The trouble he had been forced to pull them out of time and time again.

The map was probably Remus' greatest accomplishment. The other three had helped of course, but it had been his pet project. None of the other marauders had the patience to map out every corner of the castle perfectly. Well, perhaps Peter did, but he didn't have the skill required. Remus remembered the hours he had spent drawing the lines onto the paper, figuring out exactly where the secret passages went, tying the map into the wards that surrounded the castle.

In the end, he had always been the one to carry the map. James had his cloak of course and Sirius had those mirrors. His three friends had unanimously decided that their resident werewolf should have the honour of carrying this tool of rule-breaking. Remus almost had to physically force them to sign it alongside him.

He studied the dots that moved across the page. Most of them were still in their rooms, but a few were active. He could see Mr Filch wandering the fifth floor, no doubt looking for students out of bed. Remus had to give the man credit for staying up this late to do his job. Another dot, labelled _Albus Dumbledore_, was slowly moving back and forth in his office. No doubt the headmaster was pacing. Again.

Remus moved his eyes to the grounds and felt his breath freeze in his throat as he caught sight of another name. He stared at it for a second, before grabbing his wand and dashing out of his office as fast as he could.

'_How?_' he asked himself, '_How is he able to do this?_'

Remus was fairly sure that he was using his animagus form to move about the castle as he did, as well as his unrivalled knowledge of the secret passageways. Lupin knew that he should inform someone that the man was an animagus, but something stopped him.

He still could not believe that he would betray his friends as he did. Remus wanted to confront him alone, to look him in the face and ask him why. He knew it was foolish. It was how Peter had met his end, but frankly, he didn't care. He needed to do this.

The dark feelings the werewolf felt when he thought of the traitor were new and alien to him. He had never been as impulsive and reckless as his friends, but something about his former friend made his blood boil.

It wasn't only that though. Revealing the truth to Dumbledore would mean revealing that he had betrayed his trust and that was something that Remus simply couldn't do. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing the disappointment in the man's eyes, hearing the sadness in his voice as he told him he could no longer trust him. He had heard it many times, but Dumbledore was the last person who truly respected and trusted him, he couldn't lose that.

He was just exiting the castle, when he realised that he had left the map in his office. It was too late to go back now. He needed to find him.

Remus burst into the night air and moved briskly out into the moonlight. He scanned the area before him.

"_Lumos,_" he incanted and his wand tip lit up with a strong glow.

He peered into the darkness, hoping to see some flash of black fur or the gleam of sharpened white teeth. Seeing nothing, he cursed lightly under his breath. He had not been quick enough. He let his arm drop and turned to enter the castle again.

He froze.

A pair of yellow eyes were staring at him from the shadows of the castle. Remus raised his wand, a stunning spell ready to roll off his tongue. His wandlight covered the animal and he breathed a sigh of partial relief, partial disappointment.

It was a cat. It had ginger hair and a squashed face and intelligent eyes, but it was definitely _not_ Sirius Black.

Remus sighed again and walked past the animal. If Sirius had been here, he was already gone. A cat wouldn't help him find the man.

* * *

**A/N: **_How wrong you are Lupin. Don't know what to say about this chapter, there's quite a lot covered in it, and its all important. Obviously the biggest thing is Ron being back, so let me know what you think of that. We also get to see the interaction between the newly repaired Trio and their two friends, as well as Lupin's attitude towards Sirius. Anyway, just let me know what you think, as always. Until next time, good readers._


	13. Chapter 13: You Can Trust Me

**A/N:** _Hello, good readers! I will refrain from going off on a rant in this author's note and will instead keep it short and sweet. This story has managed to pass 200 reviews, so thank you to everyone who's left one. This chapter's pretty important, so please let me know what you think._

* * *

**Chapter 13: You Can Trust Me**

It was Harry, Hermione and Ron's first Care of Magical Creatures lesson since they had learned the verdict of the hearing. More importantly, it was their first chance to speak with Hagrid.

The giant of a man still didn't appear to have gotten over the shock. He absent-mindedly gave them instructions for the Flobberworms at the start of the lesson, then allowed the trio to pull him to one side with almost no resistance.

"What happened?" Harry asked, while he fed some salad to a particularly fat Flobberworm. Nobody needed to ask what he was talking about.

"S'all my fault," said Hagrid in a broken voice, his eyes lowered, "Got all tounge-tied. They was all sittin' there an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all the dates yeh looked up fer me. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he said..."

"There's still the appeal," said Ron firmly, reaching up to pat Hagrid's massive shoulder, "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

Hermione shared a look with Harry. Ron had dived into the research for Buckbeak with an unmatched fervour. He spent more time looking over old court cases than he did studying for his classes and had even managed to move Wizard Chess to the backseat to free up more of his time.

Both Harry and Hermione believed that this was his way of showing them how sorry he actually was. Not just for breaking his promise to Hagrid, but for Scabbers as well. Neither of them complained though, his fierce determination to help Buckbeak win had given those of them working on it a tiny sliver of hope, where before they'd had none.

Ron repeated his reassurances throughout the lesson, with Harry and Hermione pitching in now and then. This continued as Hagrid walked them back up towards the castle, but Hagrid repeatedly told them that it didn't matter.

"S'no good Ron," he said sadly, as they reached the castle steps, "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that..."

With that, Hagrid turned and hurried back towards his cabin, face buried in his handkerchief. Hermione felt her heart fill with sadness as she watched him go, but that feeling was replaced with a different, darker emotion when she heard the voice behind her.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy and his cronies were stood just inside the castle doors. It was clear they had heard every word Hagrid had said. "Have you ever seen anything so pathetic?" asked Malfoy, "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Hermione saw red. She didn't notice Harry and Ron moving forward beside her, nor did she notice Crabbe and Goyle's worried expressions when she approached. All that mattered was wiping that smug look off Malfoy's face.

She raised her hand back...

* * *

_SMACK_!

Harry stopped and stared at Hermione.

Her breathing was heavy and her hair whipped around her face, which was flushed a bright red. The same colour as Malfoy's cheek where she had struck him.

Her expression was twisted into a look of absolute fury and she was raising her hand again, but Harry made no move to stop her. He was mesmerised.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!"

She moved forward to strike him again and the three Slytherin boys staggered back in fear. Ron grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back, "Hermione!"

"Get _off, _Ron!" she screamed, but the Weasley held his grip, although he looked just as terrified of her as Malfoy.

Seeing her struggling seemed to have sobered Malfoy somewhat and he was able to force a sneer onto his face, though it was not as confident as usual. He raised a hand to his cheek.

"How dare you touch me!" he spat at her, "Filthy little mudbl-"

He cut off abruptly. The reason for this was simple. Harry had heard what Malfoy was about to say and this had instantly snapped him out of his daze. He had his wand out and at the boy's throat before anyone could blink.

The blond's eyes widened with renewed dread as he looked into the emerald fire in Harry's eyes.

"One more syllable and I _swear _that I will hex you so hard, you'll resemble what Hermione just called you." His voice was low and dangerous.

Malfoy gulped against the wooden rod pressed against his neck and his eyes flicked over to the witch in question, who had freed herself from Ron and now had her own wand pointed at him. Her eyes too, were filled with fire.

He seemed to break under the dual stare. He spun on the spot and bolted for the safety of the castle. Crabbe and Goyle watched him stupidly for a second, before realising that they should probably follow.

Harry and Hermione slowly lowered their arms, the flames in their gaze gradually being extinguished. Ron was gaping at the two of them with open awe.

"That felt good," said Hermione.

"Yeah it did," agreed Harry.

Ron looked back and forth between them. "Blimey! What's happened to you two while I've been gone?" he asked in wonderment.

Harry didn't answer. His breathing was gradually dropping and his rage had been banked mostly by the sight of Malfoy fleeing. He looked over at Hermione and found that she was still seething.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final," she warned him in a deadly serious voice, "You just better had, because I've had about enough of him."

"We're due in Charms," said Harry, still ignoring Ron's goggling, though he was quite astounded himself by the extent of Hermione's anger, "Come on, we'd better go."

He began to lead the way to their next lesson at a brisk pace. They hurried up the marble staircase towards the classroom, knowing they were already behind time.

"You're late boys!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly, when Harry opened the classroom door, "Come along, quickly! Wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today. We've already divided into pairs..."

Harry hurried to a desk with Ron not far behind him. His mind was still on the confrontation with Malfoy. More specifically, what would have happened if he'd followed through with his threat and turned the Slytherin into a cockroach.

He was so wrapped up in his fantasies of a Malfoy that could be squished under his boot, that he didn't notice her absence until Ron pointed it out to him.

"Where's Hermione gone?"

Harry turned and looked around the classroom, thoughts of Malfoy gone in an instant. He immediately confirmed her absence from the room due to the lack of that bushy hair he knew so well. '_But... she was right behind me..._' he remembered.

"That's weird," he said, face scrunched in confusion, "Maybe... maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"

Hermione didn't turn up all lesson.

They exited the class later with broad grins on their faces and made their way down to lunch. "You two could have done with Cheering Charms on you earlier," chuckled Ron.

Harry's smile twitched a bit, but remained in place. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he should be worrying about Hermione's disappearance, but in his current state it was impossible to feel bad about anything.

It was only towards the end of lunch, when the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were beginning to wear off and Hermione still hadn't shown up, that the worry began to get a proper foothold in their minds.

"We should look for her," said Harry in a tone that brokered no argument. Ron simply nodded and followed him as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower.

"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" asked Ron anxiously as they passed the security trolls.

Harry didn't want to think about that possibility, so he ignored Ron and said, "Flibbertigibbet." The portrait swung open at the password and they wordlessly clambered through.

Harry felt his entire body relax with relief when he spotted her sat at a desk in the corner. She had her head resting on an open Arithmancy book and appeared to be fast asleep.

The boys moved over and took the seats to either side of her. Harry shook her shoulder gently. The contact caused her to wake with a start, her eyes blearily darting around in confusion.

"Wh- what?" she said, "Is it time to go? W- which lesson do we have now?"

"Divination, but not for another half an hour," Harry replied. His tone became concerned as he continued, "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked, "I forgot to go to Charms!"

Ron looked perplexed. "But... how could you forget?" he asked, "You were with us until right outside the classroom. Weren't you?"

Harry kept his eyes fixed on Hermione, but the concern had been replaced by suspicion. Something wasn't right here.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione continued, ignoring the question, "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"

"You know what Hermione," said Ron, "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

"No I'm not!" she snapped, brushing hair out of her face and gathering her bag in her arms, "I just... made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry..."

She was already up and moving towards the portrait hole. Ron turned to Harry, with a look of utter bewilderment. "Do you have any clue what she's on about?" he asked, "I mean, none of that made any sense."

Harry wasn't really listening. His mind was currently going over all the little things about Hermione that were... _off_ this year. He recalled how some of her lessons seemed to occur at the same time, yet she never missed them. How she would randomly disappear when she had been just behind him. How he never saw her going to or from any of the lessons they didn't share.

Her behaviour had been very odd all year, but now it was getting beyond suspicious.

"I'm going after her," Harry decided and grabbed his things.

Ron looked at him like he'd gone mental for a moment, then shook his head, "Suit yourself. I value my life too much to go near her when she's in this state."

Harry ignored him and exited the Common Room. He made his way as quickly as he could to Flitwick's office, hoping to catch up with her. He had just reached the corridor where the room was, when the door opened and Hermione came out, looking extremely harassed.

"Hermione!" he called out to her.

She turned and smiled at him. "Harry," she replied walking over to him, "Did you follow me after I left? Oh, you didn't have to. Everything's fine. I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms though, Professor Flitwick hinted that they..."

"Hermione," Harry repeated, halting her ramblings. He looked at her with a serious expression, "What's going on?"

She blinked and averted her eyes. "I don't... I don't know what you mean," she replied unconvincingly.

"Don't lie Hermione. You're hiding something," he said. It wasn't a question, he knew she wasn't telling him something.

She still refused to meet his eyes, "Harry, I... I shouldn't really talk about it. I mean I'm not supposed to..."

Harry shook his head. He was beginning to get frustrated. "Why not? I'm you're best friend. You can trust me," he said, then his voice softened with concern and he put a hand on her arm, "I'm just worried about you, that's all."

She finally looked up at him and he could see the indecisiveness in her eyes. "Harry I..." she started, "I wasn't... I mean, I was told..." Her shoulders dropped and her resistance seemed to finally crumble.

"_Fine_," she sighed and grabbed him by the shoulder. She began steering him towards an empty classroom, "I'll tell you, but not here..."

She wrenched open a door and pushed him inside. He obliged and sat on a desk, deciding to get comfortable for whatever it was she was going to tell him.

She sat just across from him and sighed again. He waited patiently for her to start the explanation. Finally, she took a deep breath and began.

"Do you remember our first day back? When Professor McGonagall took you aside to ask about the Dementor and then kept me behind talk about my timetable?"

Harry's brow furrowed and he nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

"Well," Hermione continued, "She gave my this." Hermione reached down the front of her robes and pulled out a very fine, gold chain. Attached to the chain, was a tiny sparkling hourglass.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's called a Time-Turner," she revealed, "It's how I've been getting to my classes all year."

Harry still didn't understand, "What does it do?"

She took another deep breath, obviously this bit was important, "You know how Ron said my timetable made no sense?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, you had lessons that were on at the same time. You'd have had to be in two places at once." At Hermione's expression when he said this, he had a feeling he's just hit the nail on the head by accident.

"Exactly. That's what this does," she held up the hourglass, "It let's you go back in time and repeat hours in a day."

Harry's eyebrows rose and his jaw fell. He stared at her for a moment before replying. "Are you serious?" he asked. She nodded.

"Time travel?" Again she nodded.

His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to form words. It was exactly like when she'd told him about Lupin, with a thousand questions rushing through his brain. He settled on the most important one...

"You have time travel and you're using it to take more classes?"

Hermione ducked her head to try and hide her blush, but Harry caught it. "Well, yes," she said, "It's not really supposed to be used for _anything. _Awful things can happen when you mess with time,but I can't really cause much trouble when I'm doing something this harmless, can I?"

Harry shook his head and bit back a grin. This was just so... so _her_. Turning back time to take extra classes sounded exactly like the sort of thing Hermione would do.

"Anyway," she said, "McGonagall gave me all these rules about only using it for classes. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry so that I could have one. She told them I was a model student and I would only use it for my studies."

"So you really have been in two places at once," said Harry, starting to catch on. It still sounded incredibly mad, but he trusted Hermione and a lot of things were beginning to make sense.

"Yes, sometimes three," she said.

"That's what happened earlier!" Harry realised suddenly, "You went back in time to go to one of your other classes and then forgot to come back for Charms!"

She nodded and smiled sheepishly. "I've been following you and Ron, or you and Neville recently, to a class and then using the Time-Turner just before you go in. Usually, I manage to get back in time to enter with you and you're both none the wiser."

Harry frowned. "Why didn't you just tell us?" he asked, "We're your friends, you could have trusted us with this. I bet it would have made things easier for you as well."

She began to fidget, "I know. I thought about telling you a few times, but Professor McGonagall made me swear not to tell _anybody, _then... well, there was what happened at Christmas and..."

She trailed off and there was an uncomfortable silence. Harry broke it by saying, "How much do you use it?" Hermione smiled at him in thanks for changing the subject. Neither of them liked to think about the two months they weren't speaking.

"Every day at least once. Some days twice or more."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "Don't you get tired. I mean, you don't exactly turn in early and you're repeating all these hours. Surely that wears you out." He eyed the dark circles under her eyes and her slumped shoulders.

She nodded again, "Yes, it's not very... healthy for me to use it this much, but I have to. Although, I think... I think I may have to drop a couple of subjects next year," she said this last bit as though she were confessing a sin, "I can't possibly drop any of them this close to the exams, not after all the work I've done, but this years been so hectic."

"Not even Divination?" asked Harry with a slight grin.

She let out a small laugh, "Believe me, I'm tempted. I don't know how much longer I can put up with that old fraud."

Harry sighed and nodded, bowing to the fact that if she wouldn't consent to give up a subject yet, he wouldn't be able to make her.

He looked down at his watch, "Well, unfortunately for you, the _old fraud _is waiting for us. We'd better get going before we're late."

She nodded and made for the door, but Harry grabbed her by the arm as she passed.

She looked at him questioningly, but he fixed her with a hard stare. "Hermione, I'm serious. I don't really understand all this messing with time, but it can't be good for you."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand, "I'm not saying you have to stop, but you need to rest. Promise me you'll try and get an early night from now on."

She bit her lip and looked like she wanted to protest, but she said, "I promise."

He smiled at her and she returned it, then he let go of her arm and they made their way to the North Tower together.

* * *

**A/N: **_This chapter's important for obvious reasons, but I'm not yet sure how Harry knowing about the Time-Turner will affect the rest of the story, other than conversations between him and Hermione that leave Ron looking confused. I will say, I wanted to call this chapter '_Foul, Loathsome, Evil Little Cockroach_', but alas, it didn't fit. Next time, we may get to see Hermione's Boggart, but I'm not sure if I'll get that far. I guess we'll see. Until next time, good readers._


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